The Devil's Desire
by LotornoMiko
Summary: Lotor Allura, one sided Zarkon Allura. Inspired by a thought of what if Lotor didn't learn of Allura until after she was doomed to be his father's bride.
1. Chapter 1

Usually disclaimer time. I do not own Voltron or it's characters. That honor belongs to World Events Production. I make no money off of this story, it's done purely for entertainment purposes.

-Michelle

The planet was in a festive mood, even the poorest of towns were decorated as finely as the city capital of Doom. And all in a manner designed to show off the wealth of the empire, and their joy in the impending nuptials of their King. Lotor could barely remember to laugh at how misguided he had been when he first arrived on his home world, assuming the festivals were in honor of HIS most recent and most successful of war campaigns.

He had been sent to the far off reaches of the Denubian Galaxy, and it was there that Lotor, crown prince of Doom had laid a path of devastation to all who oppose the Drule Empire. Many planets had fallen under his attack, and he came back with riches to gift his king with. Lavish treasure wasn't the only items he brought with him, he also delivered the severed heads of his father's enemies, those faces frozen in horror and mounted on silver platters for the King's trophy room.

Lotor knew his father would enjoy displaying those heads almost as much as he would enjoy the added wealth to his coffers. And yet, when he arrived in the castle, he noticed a strangeness in the air, servants and slaves running back and forth, nobles whispering furtively. He could tell something was happening, something that extended beyond a homecoming welcome to a successful prince.

He'd be on planet Doom for less than an hour, when he would first hear of Allura of Arus. Lotor would learn that name from two gossiping maids, the females not realizing their prince was looming over them until after the name had come spilling out of their mouths. They had been giggling with pleasure, but it died down on a gasp when they realized just who was standing behind them.

With hasty curtsies, and muttered out excuses, the two maids would run off, leaving Lotor confused but interested. He'd continue to skulk around the castle, trying to learn more about this Allura, and just what was the reason behind the decorations that were being displayed all over the castle's interior.

He'd only get whispers here and there, people speaking about a bride, and about a newly conquered planet. A lot of furtive glances were sent the prince's way, the people watching him for his reactions, but being careful not to say too much. It wasn't any wonder that soon Lotor began thinking a horrible thought. _~My father is planning to marry me off.~_

He shuddered at that realization, wondering how and if it was possible to change his father's mind about such a thing. Lotor certainly felt he was too young to get married, being only twenty-four years of age. What's more, he had no interest in being tied down to one woman, Lotor leaving a string of lovers spread through out the galaxy. It was simple unacceptable to him the thought of marrying any time soon, and he was preparing himself for the fight that would surely ensue with his father.

He used the remainder of the hour to prepare his arguments, waiting for the King to call him to the throne room. Already his slaves were bringing in the gathered treasure, to show it off to the King and his court before delivering it to the castle's vault. Lotor would be the last to arrive, and with him would come the presentation of their vanquished enemy's heads.

Lotor was understandably nervous when he entered the throne room, feeling the eyes of the nobles on him. His father's stare weighed him down heavily, Lotor shocked to find his palms had grown slick with nervous sweat beneath his gloves. He kept his outward appearance calm though, dropping to one knee to bow before the throne. His father watched with approval in his eyes, giving Lotor permission to stand.

It was then that Lotor would present the heads, but Zarkon would only give them a cursory glance. He was more concerned with his son, and speaking on a matter that weighed heavily on his heart.

"Lotor...son..." Zarkon leaned back on his throne, staring down at the prince with a considering look. "It's good that you came as quick as you did. There's not much time left..."

"Time?" Lotor did not have to act confused in that moment, the prince looking blankly at his father. "Time for what?"

"There's great change coming to the situation on Doom." Zarkon answered, seeming evasive. "We'll all have to make adjustments, you I suspect, most of all." It was with a sinking dread that Lotor took in his father's words, the prince holding back a sigh. His father WAS marrying him off after all!

"Father..." Lotor began, stressing the family tie he had to the man. "Please, don't do this. It's not too late to change your mind..."

"It's far too late to change plans now." A smile then, Zarkon revealing all his fangs. "The negotiations has been set in stone..." A laugh then, Zarkon and the court sharing in some private joke. "Although that might be too mild a word for what was discussed."

Lotor didn't understand the laughter, the prince fighting not to growl. "And just what was decided?" He demanded, wanting to know what the price for his freedom had been. "Just what will we get in return for this alliance? And just what concessions are we making? And to who! Demos?" The empire, named after a planet, had long been the rival of Doom, and was nearly it's equal in size and power. Every year Demos came closer to surpassing Doom's greatness, and Lotor knew his father worried incessantly about what would happen if Demos became the top power in the Denubian Galaxy.

Even now Doom was close to losing worlds to Demos, that foul Empire encroaching on Drule territory, stealing planets and riches away from their rightful owners. Zarkon had kept his son busy, making Lotor go around and conquer even more planets in a desperate bid to keep Doom expanding in resources and power. Lotor longed for the chance to go up against the rulers of the Demos Empire, to cut them down and take from them their glory and their lives.

"Demos?" Zarkon repeated while Lotor glowered up at his father. "Demos has nothing to do with this..." Lotor didn't know if he should feel relief or not, trying to think who else would have enough power or riches to entice Zarkon into forcing his son to marry.

"Then if not Demos..." He began, meeting his father's eyes. "Who? Who are you marrying me off to?" A moment's pause, and then the entire court erupted into laughter along with their King. Lotor seethed in outrage, not liking the joke they had at his expense.

"Son..." Zarkon leaned forward on his throne, his golden scepter laid across his knees. "Is that what's gotten into that pretty little head of yours?" His face burned in embarrassment, Lotor not liking being called pretty. "Fear not Lotor. It's not your marriage I've arranged." His eyes seemed to gleam, Zarkon puffing out his chest in a proud fashion. "It's MINE."

He was suitably stunned, staring at his father with his mouth hanging open. The din of laughter died down to a murmur, the eyes of the court on him. His voice did not seem to want to work, Lotor making a strange sound as he gazed at his father, waiting for this to be revealed as just another joke. But Zarkon's look was deadly serious, even as he smiled satisfaction at the prince.

"Who..." Lotor croaked out at last, remembering the name he had heard during his spying. "Who is she?"

"Her name is Allura. Allura of Arus." Zarkon answered, and gave a dismissive wave. "I've no doubt you haven't heard of her planet. It's pitiful small, and rather inconsequential in the scheme of things."

"Then why?" Lotor asked, his voice no less strong this time around. "Why even marry her? If her planet is that insignificant, surely it won't further your political agenda! Does it even have riches to offer us, does it have a strong military presence, is there any use for this alliance?"

"I am not so desperate as to need a marriage that gives me strong support in either of those areas." Zarkon replied. He smirked then, the look pure pleasure. "I do this for me, and me alone."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lotor demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. He nearly gasped, a horrible thought coming to him. "You're not in love with her, are you?" Zarkon's eyes seemed to gleam, the King hesitating a moment. "Father no!"

"Relax Lotor." Zarkon chuckled. "i am no longer young enough to have my head turned so thoroughly. But I find myself lonely, and Allura is a comely enough wench to warm my bed..."

"There are several whore houses that would willingly supply you with women to do that. And at less a cost to Doom!" Lotor retorted snidely. That earned him a glare from his father, but Lotor didn't flinch.

"What kind of King associates with whores?" Zarkon snorted. "No, Allura of Arus is as fine a woman to make my Queen as any other option. Beautiful, intelligent, and more importantly, she lacks even one ounce of ambition. That should be good news for you Lotor, for she's agreed not to fight for the crown if our union should produce any children."

"Children?" Lotor felt sick at the thought, reeling back as though struck in the face by those words. He hadn't even thought that far as to what such a union could mean to his position. What if this Allura bore Zarkon's children, sons that she'd want to see sit on the throne as the next King of Doom? Would he be forced to constantly defend his life from assassination attempts? His face turned grim at the thought, Lotor knowing not only would he defend himself, he would see to killing off those would be heirs of Allura.

"Calm down Lotor." Zarkon chuckled. "You look as though you have one foot already in the grave."

"If it's there, it's because you put me in this position!" retorted Lotor. "I'll ask you again, please reconsider this marriage!"

"And I'll tell you as many times as it takes to get through that thick head of yours, no Lotor! It's too late for that! I've made up my mind, and I get what I want." A savage grin. "And what I want is Allura of Arus."

No amount of protests from Lotor could get the King to change his mind, the prince learning much about the upcoming union in the days to follow. To his horror he learned Arus was a rather poor planet, one that could barely take care of it's own people, let alone send support to the Doom Empire. It was little more than a farm world, good only for producing crops, and it's technological aspects were so unadvanced as to be laughable.

Lotor could hardly believe it when he learned Arus was one of the latest planets Doom had conquered, dealing it a crushing blow within a few days of their first attack. Arus' military was now nonexistent, destroyed by Doom's forces. Lotor still could not understand why his father would want to marry this Allura, if he wasn't already half in love with the girl.

There really was no reason for this marriage, Arus holding nothing that Doom had not already taken from the people. And yet Zarkon was doing this princess of theirs a great honor, marrying her, and elevating her to the status of Queen of a mighty empire. Lotor thought such power would go to her head, after all no one could remain unaffected by the strength and wealth of the Doom Empire.

And with it continued his worries of this Allura having children, Lotor fearing that Zarkon would decide to back them in a bid for the crown. He found himself snorting, but not at all amused, doubting his father's claims that Allura was not ambitious. She was a royal, and though pitiful her planet might be, she had to have some aspirations if she had lasted as ruler of a whole planet.

Lotor did not want to see those aspirations turned towards the Doom throne, and he vowed then and there to make things as difficult as possible for Allura. He was sure he could gain the secret backing of at least some of the nobles, either through friendships and alliances, or even force if need be. In fact for some, the alliances would come easier, some of the nobles not at all thrilled at the thought of another human Queen sitting besides their king.

But that was still some time in the future, for now Lotor wanted to drink away his worries, if only for a night. At present he was inside one of the finer taverns of the city's capital, the pub crawling with customers, and music blasting at near deafening volume. It was decorated in celebration of the impending nuptials, white and black mixed together with a splash of blood red added, Doom's customary colors for both a funeral and a wedding.

A banner hung over the bar, the Drule symbols spelling out the words to congratulate the king on his new bride. Confetti littered the floor, an over enthusiastic bar maid had released the paper upon the prince's arrival in the establishment. He had glared as the people around him cheered their happiness over his father's wedding, and even his foul mood had not brought down the celebratory feel of the tavern.

Lotor had slunk over to a corner booth, making sure to keep his back to the wall. He was being particularly paranoid, not wanting his back unprotected, as though fearing Allura would have already sent assassins to dispose of him. He stared suspiciously at each mug of ale, forcing the serving wench to drink a sip of each brew before he would allow the strong tasting liquor to pass through his lips.

His friends thought he was being overly dramatic, Commander Cossack and Lord Salima drinking heartily and without fear. Lotor could only stare glumly at his mug, noticing he had paused long enough for the foam to have fizzed out. He didn't try to force himself to drink the stale ale, rooting about in his pockets for some coin. His triumphant grin was dimmed when he noticed just whose face was on the gold, Zarkon staring up at him, a conceited smirk on his face.

The coin was newly minted, one of several million pieces done on gold, copper and silver. The coins were all the rage, newly created in celebration of the King's impending nuptials, they would be sought after collector's items in the months to come. Such was the King's generosity, that he had opened the treasury, bestowing gifts of copper coins to the more well to do subjects of his kingdom. Ten copper pieces per person may not have seemed much, but when you add in the tens of thousands of citizens in the Doom capital alone, it added up to an outstanding expense.

"Barkeep!" Lotor growled, slamming the gold coin down hard on the table. "Another round for me and my friends." It was enough gold to buy several rounds, and the bar tender nodded, sending over one of the pub's serving wenches to deliver the fresh mugs of ale. It was the house special blend, a potent brew that could knock a man off his feet if he wasn't careful with his drink.

Lotor craved that kind of obliviousness of his thoughts, the prince eagerly swallowing down the bitter bronze colored liquid. Cossack was besides him to the right, smacking his lips appreciatively as he eyed the serving wench's backside. Her outfit was such that she was dangerously close to falling out the top and bottom halves, the material clinging to her curves. She walked with a wiggle to her hips, sashaying from table to table, dodging the groping hands of the drunk and horny patrons.

"That's a nice piece of ass on that one." Cossack said, leering in her direction.

"Certainly is." Agreed Lord Salima. "I wonder how much coin it would take to get her to come to bed with me?"

"As if you would even be able to do anything with her in the state you've drunk yourself into!" Cossack retorted, making fun of Salima's slurred speech.

Lotor almost smiled at their antics, lifting the mug to his lips to drink some more of the liquid. It got less foul tasting the more he drank, and Lotor hoped it meant he would soon be as drunk as Lord Salima was.

"Still...she is pretty..." Salima sounded almost wistful in the moment, eyes holding a far away look to them. "But not as pretty as our new Queen is supposed to be." That brought a decided silence to the table, Lotor drinking as calmly as he could manage.

"You fool!" hissed Cossack, glaring at the lord. "Why'd you have to go and bring her up?"

"Well, it's true isn't it?" Salima asked. "Our future queen is supposed to be very beautiful if she caught the King's attention so thoroughly. Although...I hear hardly anyone knows what she looks like."

"Oh?" Lotor raised an eyebrow at that. "Are they too poor to afford holos?"

"I hear your father is keeping her under wraps until the marriage ceremony." Offered Salima. "Wants to save the big unveiling for then."

"Any of our soldiers who have been to Arus, have remained there to maintain peace on that world." Cossack said. He looked around, and lowered his voice to a whisper that had Lotor straining to hear him. "I heard they're not exactly thrilled about this marriage. That they might try to do something to prevent it."

"What can they do?" Salima made a rude noise. "We completely ruined them. And they should be grateful their princess isn't toiling as a slave but about to become Queen."

"Queen to the very empire that conquered them." Lotor pointed out, drinking down the last remnants of ale in his mug. "You don't think they might not try to get revenge on us, do you?"

"I'd like to see them try!" An affronted Cossack said.

"What revenge can they take?" Salima wanted to know. "if they were to kill our King, their princess would suffer the same fate in return. What's more, they would lose what little protection Doom is offering Arus."

"They have much to lose." Agreed Lotor, thinking of the advancements Zarkon was planning to make to Arus' society. "But revenge makes even the smartest of people stupid."

"We'll just have to be on guard then." Salima decided, and Lotor nodded.

"Indeed."

"but you know..." Salima was thoughtful. "I heard the king wanted her from the moment he first saw her. She really must be something special to get his heart moving after all these years."

"It wasn't his heart that was moving." Quipped Cossack with a nasty snicker.

Lotor groaned, not liking the thought of his father being horny, or even worse, being moved by a lust so strong he would do something that had the potential to ruin his son's life. "It's worse if she's beautiful." He said out loud. "It means she'll be able to twist him around her fingers. Mark my words, this future queen will have the king as her lap dog, and we as her fools. She'll bring disaster to the royal family, maybe even to the Doom Empire itself." He lowered his voice, eyes shifting about to look from Cossack's face, to Salima's. "If we're lucky, some assassin will do her in soon after the wedding."

Salima gasped, and Cossack's eyes went wide. "It's treason to speak this way." The Commander pointed out, and Lotor grew defensive.

"I'm only looking after my own hide. That, and that of the kingdom's best interest." He was signaling for another barmaid, wanting his drink refilled. He waited until the serving wench had walked away, before continuing. "Mark my words you two...this princess of Arus will be nothing but trouble."

To Be Continued...

Michelle


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning was full of headaches and aggravation, Lotor being called on to attend his father at an ungodly hour. It was too early on Doom, and even with the Drules ability to forgo sleep for many more hours than a human could, Lotor felt tired and disorientated. He realized it was more than just a late night that had him feeling so horrible, Lotor noting how dry his mouth felt, the way his headache seemed to hammer at his temples, and the general feel of nausea that surrounded him.

There was no doubt about it, he was hung over, Lotor having drunk himself to the point of sickness. His father seemed to know what was wrong with him, fixing him with a disgusted look as Lotor tried to look anywhere but at Zarkon. It didn't help that his vision kept splitting into two, Lotor seeing double of each person in the room. Currently there was three besides him and his father, and with his doubled vision, he kept seeing eight people rushing about.

His father stood in the center of the room, arms held out to the sides as the castle seamstresses took his measurements. It appeared his father had gain some muscle, his chest broader, and his arms bulging with strength. It left Lotor wondering if his father had taken to exercising, all in an attempt to impress his future bride.

The seamstresses were chattering quietly, calling out numbers to each other as one inputted the information into a data pad. Another was holding up swatches of cloth to Zarkon, the King seeming almost dismissive as he chose and discarded colors. He was being fitted for a new wardrobe, the King eager to show off his new body, Lotor was shocked to see him forgoing the usual loose robes he had favored for so long.

"Father..." Lotor said at last, trying to squint to control the double vision of Zarkon's face. "Just what do you wish to talk to me about this early?"

"It's not that early son." Zarkon replied, than gave a haughty toss of his head. "I've been up since five this morning." Lotor held back a nasty comment about Zarkon's odd hours, the prince feeling sorry for the servants who would have had to get up even earlier than their King. "You can't sleep your whole life away, especially now."

"I had a late night, and if all you're going to do is chide me for a momentary relapse in sleeping in, I'm leaving." Lotor announced, already turning towards the door.

"They're all talking about it you know." Zarkon's voice called after him. "Don't think the court doesn't know you were out in some filthy pub getting drunk off your ass."

"Am I not allowed to celebrate my own father's impending nuptials?" Lotor asked, tone tart.

"Not when everyone knows you were drinking out of disgust for this union." Zarkon said sharply.

"Oh?" Lotor turned back to him, expression mild as he raised his eyebrows. "Is that what they think?"

"Everyone saw your reaction to news of my bride." Zarkon was allowing a seamstress to slide a jacket on him, the woman checking to make sure the fit was snug but not so tight as to impede his movements. "You were very vocal in your displeasure and opposition to this marriage."

"I was in shock." Lotor pointed out. "Do forgive me if I said anything that gave you the idea I was against you and your bride."

"Shock had nothing to do with that sharp tongue of yours. Telling me to take a whore rather than a wife." Zarkon made a tsking sound, a mirror being held up before him so he could admire himself in the jacket. He gave a slight nod of his head, approving of it, and then was shrugging out of the garment, the seamstresses hurrying to catch it before it hit the floor.

"I misspoke." Lotor admitted. "I won't do so again."

"Good." Zarkon grunted his approval. "Because I will not have you talking negativity to me, my bride, or to the court. This marriage is a good thing, and one you should not be opposed of."

Lotor couldn't help the sullen look that came across his face at Zarkon's words. "How can you say that?" He demanded. "This girl you've decided to marry comes from NOTHING. Less than nothing! Her planet is poor, pitiable, her people should be made slaves not citizens of the Doom Empire. And yet you are making all kinds of allowances for them, giving them protection and support, ready to advance their civilization so they can make something of themselves. Why? Why go through all this charade just to get the chit into bed with you?"

Zarkon's eyes had narrowed, but Lotor blundered onwards, perhaps a bit of drink still remained inside him, giving him foolish courage. "We are Drule! We take what we want, we don't negotiate. Not for power, not for money, and not for affection!"

"There are some things you'll find worth making concessions for." Zarkon retorted with a hiss. "Allura of Arus will be mine, and I will claim her so thoroughly that their will be no doubt who she belongs to."

"She has bewitched you, hasn't she!" Lotor cried out, bereft in the moment. "That's the only explanation I can think of for this madness."

"Mad am I?" Zarkon scowled. "Son, you have not begun to see the true depths of insanity if you think an old man indulging with a sweet young bride is crazy."

"She's using you." Lotor grumbled. "What is she, a gold digger as well as a princess? Does she even have a suitable dowry to give you?" Lotor shook his head no. "It matters not, her dowry was lost the instant Doom conquered her planet. She's got nothing to offer you! I would be able to make sense of this if you were doing this for political gain, but that you simply lust for the girl is too much!"

"I've never been one to be controlled by the opinion of others." Zarkon began with a growl. "And I'm not about to start now. I make the decisions about my life, and that includes who to marry. I will not lower myself to allow the court or YOU to tell me who to take my pleasure from! And I will not have you being so vocal in your opposition of this marriage!"

"Why?" Lotor demanded, still squinting at his father. The double vision was starting to spin, making him dizzy and he found himself leaning against the wall for support. "Do you fear the nobles will back me on this?" Zarkon merely grunted, and Lotor gasped. 'You do! Your worry that they'll push to have you removed from the throne, that they'll support me in a bid for the crown, don't you?"

"You and they will find I am not so easy to replace Lotor." Zarkon warned. "If there's even a chance of them trying to put you on the throne before my time is up, I will kill you myself. And then they will have no choice but to name my children with Allura as the throne's heirs."

"You wouldn't..." Lotor stared at his father, mouth open in shock.

"You'll find there is little I won't do to retain power, or to get my way." Zarkon retorted. "Now, are you going to continue to make a public spectacle of yourself, and drunkenly oppose this marriage? Or will you be the first to congratulate me after the deed is done? Choose carefully Lotor..." The prince noticed his father's hand was resting on the pommel of his sword, and Lotor once again found himself cursing his hung over state.

"No father." Lotor was glum as he spoke, bowing his head. "I wish you all the happiness in your upcoming marriage." Zarkon had not relaxed his stance, staring steely eyed at his son. "I was never going to go to the nobles to back me against you." It was a half truth, Lotor could remember wanting to gain the court's support in making this Allura's life miserable.

"But you thought it, didn't you." Zarkon grumbled, fingers caressing the hilt of his sword. "I want you to swear your loyalty to me."

"Right now?"

"Now and before the court." Zarkon told him. Lotor held back a growl, thinking his father wanted to publicly humiliate him. "Make all the pretty speeches you need, but I want you to be convincing when you say you have no designs on my crown, and the life of my new bride." A new jacket was offered him, Zarkon waving it away as he glared coldly at his son. "Submit to me on this, and you may get your chance to sit on the throne within twenty years time."

"Twenty years?" Lotor exclaimed, eyes flashing with annoyance. "Surely you could step down sooner than that."

"Careful Lotor, or I'll make you wait another thirty." Zarkon warned. Lotor lips curled, the prince realizing his father would never give up the throne so long as he was able bodied to defend it. He even entertained a vision of Zarkon clinging to the crown with the viselike grip of death, forcing his son to pry it free of his cold fingers.

Shaking his head to dispel the image, Lotor spoke. "By that time the nobles might decide I am too old to assume the throne. What then? If you have any children with your bride, they might insist on younger blood taking the throne."

"That won't be a problem if you behave yourself." Zarkon told him. "Allura has already agreed that any children she births will not be allowed into the line of succession. Your position as heir is secured."

"Only on the whim of you!" Lotor pointed out. "And what of this Allura? You claim she is not ambitious, but surely as a mother she would want the best for her children. I can already imagine her whispering in your ear, wheedling you into granting her children rights. Rights that should not be theirs in the first place."

"Bah!" Zarkon snorted. "I am not so weak as to let a female's cajoling twist my rule around." Lotor certainly hoped so, though he kept quiet with that comment. "Allura will have little power to affect anything in the Doom Empire. So rest assured, at most she will rule only over the servants, and not our people."

"You will not entertain any of her suggestions?" Lotor asked, and Zarkon shrugged.

"I'll listen to them. She's certainly intelligent enough to make good decisions. After all..." A fang filled grin. "She agreed to marry me." Lotor was in doubt about how smart a decision that was. "Now submit to me, and swear your loyalty Lotor." Another caress of his sword's hilt, Zarkon glaring at Lotor.

"Fine..." Lotor said through gritted teeth. It pained him to make this concession, Lotor moving slowly towards his father. His father gestured for him to drop to his knees, and Lotor had to fight to keep the hatred off his face. "I submit to you on this and all matters, father." Lotor growled out, fuming inwardly. "I am loyal to you...I swear it." Zarkon stared down at him, and for one-second his fingers closed around the hilt of his sword, as though the King was still considering striking down his son.

Lotor would have been defenseless in the moment, lacking the proper motor skills that a clear headed mind would have granted him. He tried not to tense up, watching his father, who studied him carefully. "I suppose it's good enough." Grunted Zarkon, to Lotor's relief. "Just remember to work on convincing my court of your loyalty as well."

"I will father." Lotor hissed, and slowly rose to his feet.

"I want you to stand with me at the wedding ceremony." Zarkon continued, Lotor looking at him in surprise. "Your appearance there will go far to show your support of me."

"Of course father." Lotor allowed a gracious nod, though appearing supportive of the match was the last thing he wanted.

"Busy times Lotor, busy times." Zarkon said, then laughed. "You'll have to get fitted with a new suit. Can't have you doing my bride and the ceremony dishonor in those rags you call a uniform."

"I'll get on it immediately." Lotor said, and made a gesture towards the door. "If that is all, may I be excused?"

"There's one other reason I called you down here." Zarkon stopped him with those words. "I need you to do something for me."

"Oh? What?" Curiosity got the better of him, Lotor waiting for his father to speak.

"My bride is set to arrive any day now. I want you to take the fleet and meet her in space." Zarkon grinned. "I don't want to take a chance this close to Doom that something might happen to her. You never know when enemy ships might lurk in Doom air space. It would be tragic if something were to happen to Allura, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, father." Lotor bowed his head in agreement, though inwardly he was angered at the thought of playing escort for the princess. But he had had no choice but to agree, and thus this was how he found himself several planets way from his home world, waiting for the Arusian ships to arrive. The amount of ships he had brought with him bordered on insane, Zarkon insisting on nothing but a full regiment of warships. Lotor had with him over thirty-five ships, enough to start a small scale war, and certainly more than enough to handle any would be attackers.

He sulked as he sat in his command chair, studying the star filled vastness of space, the green and purple planet of Navenia spinning slowly in it's orbit as the Drule ships inched it's way past that world. So far there was no sign of the Arusian ships, and Lotor waited impatiently for them to arrive. He wanted this job over and done with, the prince eager to be back on Doom.

"I'm a warrior not a baby sitter!" Lotor grumbled under his breath, and his friend Cossack cocked his head to the side.

"Sire?"

"It's nothing." Lotor told him, tapping impatient fingers on the arm rest of his command chair. He kept thinking his father had given him this mission partly to keep him out of trouble on Doom. Surely Zarkon had noticed the way some of the nobles were flocking to Lotor's side, expressing concern on the impending marriage. They didn't like the thought of their king marrying for pleasure, anymore than Lotor did, though in truth the prince would have opposed the marriage even if it had something advantageous to Doom.

Now he was sworn to be loyal, and not stir the nobles up, or divide the court against his father and this bride of his. Lotor was also aware his father was doing Allura the honor of being escorted by his son, though the prince wished Zarkon had found some lesser decorated soldier to lead the bridal escort. He felt he should be off on another war campaign, though in truth he had earned a break from all the constant warring.

How many planets had he conquered in his short career? Lotor had lost track, being sent on his first campaign when he was barely sixteen years of age. He added numerous worlds, slaves and riches to the Doom Empire, and the heads of Doom's enemies lined his father's trophy room. Lotor was the most prolific of warriors that his father employed, the prince's accomplishments only being outdone by his own father's, back when Zarkon had been a young man of twenty.

Lotor understood the time for war was to be set aside, there was a celebration to be had, even if he hated the reason behind the rejoicing. He didn't like the thought of being saddled on Doom during his father's honeymoon period, but Zarkon seemed to want to keep him close at hand. As though he didn't trust Lotor's swears of loyalty, Zarkon making sure the prince would not go off and amass an army of his own.

"At least we'll finally get to see if this Allura is as beautiful as they claim she is." Cossack's voice drew Lotor out of his private grumbling, Lotor looking at the grinning commander. He had no doubt Allura had to be beautiful, but he failed to see how her beauty could be enough to make his father consider remarrying. Especially after his last disastrous union.

Lotor thought of his mother then, a pang in his heart. He had still been but a boy when he last saw her, the woman vibrant, with long blond hair and blue green eyes that seemed to change depending on her moods. Zarkon had not married for love, it had been a union based purely on solidifying Doom's power in Queen Adaline's part of the galaxy.

The marriage had been successful on that front, but a disaster in others, Adaline hating her husband with a passion that rivaled Zarkon's own temper. They fought often, and Lotor had been privately amazed they had come together long enough to conceive even one child. He bore traits from both his parents, his mother's human blood softening his Drule looks to the point he bordered on pretty. But his temper and fierce love of battle was all traits from his father, Lotor more Drule than human when it came to thought and actions.

He didn't like to think about his mother, or the time that followed her death. Lotor could vaguely recall the accident that took place in court, Adaline's body bouncing off the steps that led up to the throne's dais. He had been too young to tell if she had slipped, or his father had pushed her, and the guards had quickly surrounded him, preventing him from going to his mother's side.

He never got to see her final moments, barely aware that his father had hurried down the steps to kneel at his mother's side. He never could remember what happened next, Lotor blacking out to the sound of screams all around him. But he knew when he woke up, his mother had already been dead.

A shudder shook him, Lotor frowning. He thought it an ill omen to be thinking about his mother's death when he was poised to meet his father's new bride. He feared what it meant, feared that darkness and death would follow on the heels of Allura's arrival. What's more, he didn't know if he'd be able to stop it, or if he'd even care to try.

He was still musing about what this could mean, when a shout was heard, several of the Drule technicians calling out in excitement. They had a reading that hinted at the arrival of the Arusian ships, and Lotor sat up straighter. "What's the estimated time of arrival?" He demanded, and a voice called out.

"Twenty seconds!"

"They should be arriving out of warp speed now." Cossack added, and together he and Lotor stared at the front view monitor that showed off the empty space before the Doom fleet. A technician continued to count down the time, and as she did so, the stars seemed to waver before them. It was a dizzy inducing moment, that ended with a white flash of light.

Lotor had been prepared for the light, already closing his eyes to block out the sight. When he opened them, the Arusian ships were there, and his mouth dropped open in shock. "That's it?" He demanded, torn between glaring and laughing in mock outrage at the pitifully small number of ships the Arusians had sent as an escort for their princess. There was five in all, including the princess' yacht, and none were very big or imposing. He snorted then, and grumbled. "Just how poor is this Arus, to send such a weak escort for their princess?"

"No wonder the King was so eager to have us come meet them." Murmured Cossack, looking just as stunned as Lotor did. Arus looked the part of a poor relation, and the prince was astounded they had had enough power to travel through warp speed.

"Move into position around the Arusian ships." Lotor ordered, and heard the technicians relaying his command to the other ships. The Arusian ships hesitated, allowing the Drule fleet to surround it. Lotor's own flag ship moved to intercept the princess' yacht, the prince impatient to get these formalities over and done with. From this point onward he was to travel directly with the princess, and protocol be damned, he refused to ride aboard her pathetically ill equipped yacht. The ship was little more than a pleasure cruiser, and Lotor doubted it had many weapons to protect itself.

"Make the connection." Lotor snapped, waiting impatiently for the two ships to connect to each other by way of tunnel ramp. He would be boarding the yacht just long enough to collect the princess. Her belongings would remain on the ship, though Lotor doubted she had much in the way of riches. He was curious to inspect what she brought as a dowry, but aware that such an act would be seen as humiliating to the king's future bride.

There was a shaking of the Arusian yacht, the tunnel ramp connecting to it with such force the ship seemed ready to fall apart. Lotor rolled his eyes, muttering things about the shoddiness of Arusian craftsmanship.

When at last the tunnel ramp was secured, Lotor stood up, sweeping back his cape. His hand briefly touched upon his sword's hilt, Lotor taking comfort from it's presence upon him. "Let's go." Lotor said to Cossack. "It's time to meet my father's bride."

To Be Continued...

Michelle

Christine, the Dark Rose Miaden, thanks. It was an idea that I had to stop working on Animal Attraction for a few days, just to get the first chapters out of my head. Then I promptly returned to Animal Attraction. I get ideas, and sometimes they are so insistent that they be written, they try to distract me from whatever story I am currently working on! XD

Yes, poor Allura...I had actually wanted to start this story a lot sooner, but I thought only my friend Nichole would read. But then I got some positive response from Zarkon chasing/Lusting after Allura in Porcelain Dreams, that it gave me a push to start this story. Heh...poor Lotor...he thinks everything is about him, then he gets the bad news his father is getting married...and now he's about to meet his future step mother! XD

Sibel88, aw thanks. Though I think it's too soon to say if it's my finest. There was only one chapter posted. I often think that Allura is a lot like Helen of Troy, not just for this story, but for Voltron in general. Since they seemed to harp on how she was supposed to be one of the most beautiful princesses in the galaxy. XD But Allura of Arus didn't seem to encompass the story well as a title...sorry. I went with The Devil's Desire for it instead. I suppose some people will automactically assume it's just Zarkon who is the devil, but I sorta think it could fit for Lotor and Allura too...especially Lotor since he will find himself attracted to his father's bride!

Misty Gargoyle, I'm laughing over your eeew! It's funny, cause you are one of the people who made me think someone other than Nichole would read this kind of story. (From your words in some of the Porcelain Dream reviews.) So thank you! I only really know this one story from Tamy on her Denubian website, that was like four books long where Allura somehow ended up married/mated to Zarkon. Are there anymore?

Dimeraslover, thanks. Lotor will be wowed with her, but...he'll be like trying to fight any feelings he has for her. Course the more time he spends with her, the more he likes her...DUN DUN DUN!

Lotor Sincline, thanks my friend. Your support helped me to decide to post this story! :D And yes, as you already know, I found a title for it! *dances*


	3. Chapter 3

The inside of the princess' yacht was decidedly different from it's outside, the interior clean and brightly lit. There was no sign of wear and tear, surely the Arusians had been busy with repairs and cleaning the inside of the ship. It was decorated nicely, in what Lotor was sure passed for lavish on Arus. He studied his surroundings with some curiosity, looking over the crest that was painted on the rear wall.

It was a shield divided into four sections, two halves colored red, the others colored blue. A golden lion took up guard on the front of the shield, it's colors gleaming in the light. The crest stood in bold contrast to the white smoothness of the walls, and banners hung against it, a deep royal purple color. There was a couch that matched that purple, along with a paler lavender shade that colored the chairs.

Lotor sat in the center most chair, waiting impatiently for his charge to arrive. He didn't like that she was keeping him waiting, thought it was arrogant of the princess. He was eager to collect her, and get back to the safety of his own ship, this yacht seeming to rattle on occasion, as though it would fall apart at any moment. He thought of the gossip he had heard, of how Doom had devastated Arus of it's military, and realized that this was probably the best of the princess' remaining ships.

Cossack stood besides him, and behind the pair was several Drule soldiers. They were armed, though they kept their stance relaxed to show they meant no menace to the princess. Lotor nearly snorted at the thought, knowing that if she showed any protest at coming to Doom, they would advance on her, drag her kicking and screaming if need be to her future husband.

What a scandal that would cause, Lotor hiding a smirk as he waited for the princess to finally present herself to him. A servant moved around the room, Lotor having to remind himself that this human wasn't a slave but a citizen of the Doom Empire. Drinks were offered him, as were pastries, Lotor refusing them all. He wasn't here for niceties, didn't care about Arusian hospitality.

"What is taking your princess so long?" Lotor demanded with an angry bark. The servant jumped, nearly dropping her tray to the floor. Only her shaking hands managed to steady it, the woman risking a look at Lotor.

"Forgive us, your highness." She bowed meekly. "We weren't expecting you quite this soon. The princess is overseeing the packing of her belongings..."

"She doesn't need to bring much." Grumbled Lotor. "The journey to Doom will at most take two days. And that's if we don't hurry."

"I'll relay that to her." The servant all but ran out of the room, the Drule soldiers erupting into laughter.

"It's just like a woman to keep a man waiting." Cossack muttered, and Lotor corrected him.

"It's just like a spoiled princess to keep us waiting." Lotor sighed. "I have far better things to do than wait for her to decide on which dresses she wants to take."

"Patience your highness..." advised Cossack. "It shouldn't take much longer..."

"It better not." Lotor retorted with a rude sound. He kept on glancing at the room's chrono meter, glaring as the minutes sped by. To wait even five minutes was unacceptable, but the princess had been keeping him here for nearly thirty. He wondered if his father knew about the princess' penchant for keeping men waiting, Lotor thinking Zarkon would quickly free her of that bad habit.

"Why a lion..." Came Cossack's murmur, and Lotor realized his friend was studying the room's crest. He had no answer for the commander, and was surprised when one of the soldiers spoke.

"The lion is a sort of mascot for Arus. Their animal of prosperity." Explained the soldier. "Why even their castle is named after it, with great big stone guardians placed around the property." Lotor and Cossack stared at him, and the Drule became flustered. "I have a brother who is stationed on Arus. He's told me a little about their culture."

"Has he seen the princess?" Cossack asked, sounding eager. "Is she as beautiful as they say?"

"According to him, yes." The soldier nodded. "He's only seen a few glimpse of her, but he says he can see why the King would want her."

That soured Lotor's mood, the prince once again angry his father could be so swayed by beauty. But he bit his tongue to keep from grumbling out loud, knowing he couldn't risk that these soldiers would not report back to Zarkon with Lotor's words.

"I don't know how she's going to handle life on Doom." Continued the soldier. "My brother says she is soft, even for a woman."

"The nobles will eat her alive if she's really that soft." Cossack said, and Lotor hid a grin.

"I doubt very much our King would allow that." The soldier said seriously, and Lotor did not fight his scowl.

"My father doesn't have time to baby a woman, even if she's his bride. She'll learn to develop a thick skin, or she will pay the price with the nobles." Lotor glanced at the chrono meter again, and leapt to his feet. This was beyond ridiculous, how long was this woman going to keep him here?

"Where are you going prince?" Cossack called out as Lotor stepped towards the door.

"To fetch the princess myself." Lotor growled, and jerked open the door. Cossack must have given a command, for the soldiers moved to follow their prince, the group of Drules startling the humans out in the hall. These humans were all so shaky and easy to frighten, and Lotor wondered what sort of hardships they had endured at his people's hands.

A servant was running towards him, a man this time, an older gentleman with a mustache. "Your highness, please...if you would just wait a moment more..."

"I'm through waiting." Lotor grabbed him by the jacket, drawing him close enough to growl in his face. "You will show me to your princess' room immediately." The man's eyes widened, but he didn't dare offer a protest, merely nodding a yes to Lotor.

Satisfied, the prince thrust the man away from him, the servant tripping over his own feet. He crashed into a wall, and the soldiers laughed at that, giving the man red cheeks that hinted at his flustered state.

Lotor waited impatiently for the servant to recover his footing, and with a stiff bow, the man was moving. Lotor stalked behind him, noting the startled humans who stopped to stare open mouthed at the Drules. No one tried to get in their way, in fact a few humans darted into open doorways in a bid to avoid confrontation with the Drules.

They were led deeper into the ship, until at last the servant stopped before a room. "A moment if you please, your highness." The man said, moving to knock on the door.

"She's had more than enough moments." Lotor retorted, knocking the man aside and thrusting open the door. He could hear the chatter of females, voices not overly excited but solemn as they talked. They weren't speaking in Drule or Basic, but in the language of their native world. Lotor had a moment's uncertainty, wondering if the princess would even be able to converse with the Drules without an interpreter present.

Suddenly a round shaped woman stepped in front of him, her face red with anger as she looked him over. She didn't seem cowed by the fact he was a Drule, placing her hands on her hips to angrily bark at him.

Lotor blinked in surprise, then narrowed his eyes. "Out of my way, you impertinent bitch!" A gasp was heard from inside the room, someone there had understood what he had said.

The man spoke, trying to stem the confrontation from becoming any nastier. "This is Nanny. She is in charge of the princess' household."

"She'll be cleaning out castle Doom's dungeons if she doesn't watch her tone with me." Lotor said, and shoved the woman into the room. With Nanny out of the way, he caught sight of the chaos existing in this room, dresses thrown on every available surface save for the floor. Suitcases were open, looking half full, and there was half a dozen women gathered in the room.

Nearly all turned to stare at him, and Lotor passed a cursory glance over each one. There was one practically laying on the floor, her head under the bed as she searched for something. What he did not know, but he ignored her, turning to study the other girls. They were all shapes and sizes, ranging from plain to pretty, though none seemed beautiful enough to have made his father a lust crazed fool.

Their dresses didn't hint at which one could be the princess, they were all garbed in their finest gowns as befitted ladies in waiting. Lotor studied them a minute more, than was walking to the prettiest, not quite content to kneel before her. He settled for offering a stiff bow, hand reaching for hers. "Princess Allura..." His voice was cold, holding no emotion to it as he moved to grace a kiss on the back of her hand.

The women all seemed to gasp, and Allura jerked her hand away from his grasp. He frowned at her, not liking the insult she had given him, or the way she chirped something at him in that strange sounding tongue of hers.

"Well?" Lotor looked to the male servant to translate, and he coughed, seeming embarrassed. The woman known as Nanny said something, and a muffled voice came from under the bed. He didn't understand what she said, but heard the triumphant quality to her tone. Lotor glanced back at his commander, Cossack giving a shrug, as at a loss as Lotor was.

Another happy sound, and then the girl under the bed was standing up. At first Lotor only took notice of what she held in her hands, two squirming gray colored mice, that squeaked and stared at him with beady black eyes. He was so taken aback by the mice, he almost forgot to look at the girls' face, watching as she turned away from him to deposit the mice into a cage with two others.

Nanny seemed to tsk, and hurried over to the girl, reaching to smooth out her skirts, and fuss over her hair. The other women were starting to talk again, and suddenly the girl straightened. She turned, and this time her hands were empty, Lotor jerking his gaze up to her face. And stopped, feeling as stunned as the girl looked.

She had sun kissed skin that would surely turn pale after a few weeks of living on Doom. Lotor felt that even without the healthy glow of a tan, she would be radiant, Lotor staring at her face. A cute nose set in a perfect face, with elegant cheek bones, and sparkling blue eyes that reminded him of an ocean he had once seen. Pouty, full lips, colored a reddish pink pursed at him, the girl saying something, but he didn't hear it.

He was too busy taking note of her wavy blond hair, the color so golden he had only seen it's likes on one other woman. It startled him the resemblance she bore to his dead mother, even as he could see she had enough features to look different, as though she was a distant relative. She seemed even more lovely than the mother of his memories, and Lotor couldn't help but think this girl was so beautiful that it hurt to look at her.

He could hear Cossack and the soldiers behind him murmuring their appreciation in Drule, one even speaking enviously at the thought of the King bedding such a beauty. With a start Lotor realized this had to be Allura of Arus, and his heart gave a despairing lurch. Especially when he thought of this beautiful creature in the arms of a crusty old man like his father's.

"You're staring your highness." Cossack said in a staged whisper, Lotor blinking rapidly to compose himself. The girl looked at him uncertainly, Nanny and the other women still fussing over her appearance. The older woman was even clucking her tongue, having spied the carpet stains on the girl's skirt from when she had crawled around on the floor.

"Princess Allura, I presume?" Lotor asked, not wanting to make a mistake a second time. He found himself hoping with all his heart that she was not Allura of Arus, even as he knew she couldn't be anyone else. No one in the room could compare to her perfection, and Lotor had to remind himself several times she was poised to become his enemy through her marriage to his father.

"Yes, I am she." She surprised them all by speaking in halting Drule, her pronunciation off in a few places. She looked nervous, and smoothed her hands down the bodice of her pink gown, it's shade matching her lipstick. "And you are crown prince Lotor, yes?" He nodded, pleased she had acknowledge his title. "Ah...forgive me..." She switched to basic, cheeks turning pink. "My Drule is not so good...I'm afraid I'm at my limit when it comes to conversing in it."

"It's all right." Lotor reassured her, then cursed himself for trying to put her at ease. "You'll have plenty of time to learn the ins and outs of the Drule language. Until then, we can speak in Basic, if that is where your skill lies."

"Thank you." She looked grateful for a moment, and then Nanny said something to her. Her eyes widened, and she immediately dipped into a curtsey. Lotor tried not to stare down her modest top, not wanting to ogle her. "Please forgive me for keeping you waiting. There was a problem with my things."

"So I noticed." Lotor said wryly, lifting a hand to indicate the messy state of her room. She colored even redder, and seemed at a loss for what to say. "We really won't be in space for that long. You need not take everything with you on board my ship."

"Of course." She gestured, and the women parted from her side, hurrying over to close the suitcases. "Then I am ready." A disapproving Nanny lifted the cage with the mice, the rodents squeaking loudly. Lotor lifted a brow at that, and Allura grew even more flustered. "These are my pets."

"You keep vermin for companions?" He was shocked, and the mice seemed to squeak in indignation.

"They're not vermin, they're mice. A special breed on Arus, highly intelligent, and as suitable a companion for a princess as any other."

"Hmmm." Lotor made a noncommittal noise, privately wondering what his father would have to say in her choice in pets. He'd let the old man deal with it, Lotor nodding his head and gesturing for Allura to follow him out of the room. Nanny and the girls moved to accompany them, and Lotor paused. "My father has already picked out your ladies in waiting. These women need not come along with us."

Allura looked startled at that, turning to look at Nanny and the other girls. "But...I thought we agreed...I could pick out my own ladies..."

Lotor knew what his father was up to, filling Allura's household with ladies who would be spies that would report on the future queen's every activity. Her every move would be watched, her every word reported to the King, and Lotor loathed to think what Zarkon would do if he found Allura's behavior suspicious.

It was the male servant who came to the princess' rescue, the man drawing himself upright. "The princess cannot board your ship without the proper chaperones." Lotor was amused at that, knowing no one would dare molest Zarkon's bride. "We must insist that at least Nanny and two of the girls accompany her to Doom."

"Oh you must insist?" Lotor demanded with a raised eyebrow. The man stiffened, but nodded, and Lotor fought to keep from laughing.

"Please your highness...you won't even know they're there." It was Allura who spoke, tone almost begging. He looked at Nanny, his expression saying he would always be aware of the large woman.

"It doesn't suit a future Queen of Doom to beg anyone but her husband." Lotor said, and Allura colored in embarrassment. "But I will allow their presence if it will put you at ease."

She seemed to wilt in relief, nodding quickly. "It would." She then turned, and said something to Nanny and the other women, a mixture of relief and disappointment on their faces. It appeared the women didn't want to part from their princess' side, but they also were in no way eager to go to Doom.

In addition to Nanny, Allura picked one of the plainer girls, a dishwater blonde, and the pretty redhead Lotor had mistaken for the princess. The two girls struggled to carry the princess' luggage, the soldiers not offering a hand. They were here as soldiers, not as servants, and refused to even be considered as anything less than an honor guard for the two royals.

He walked with Allura besides him, Lotor content to allow the male servant lead them back to the docking bay of the ship. Lotor had to fight to keep from looking at Allura constantly, and he was well aware he had slipped in etiquette in not offering her his arm. But he was actually frightened of the thought of this beautiful creature touching him, Lotor fearing he would shatter into a million piece at the grazing of her fingers on his flesh.

"So..." Cossack was clearing his throat, trying to engage the princess in conversation. "You are practicing Drule?"

"Oh yes." Allura nodded, her lips forming an odd little smile. "I've been studying your language ever since talks began about my marriage to your King."

"He's your king too now." Lotor was quick to point out, and she ducked her head shyly.

"Yes, I know." Came her faint answer. She was almost shy then, speaking softly. "Do you think it will please him to know I am learning the Drule language?"

"I'm sure the King will enjoy being able to speak to his beautiful bride in his native tongue." Cossack assured her, with a warm smile. Lotor wished he could be so kind to the princess, but he found himself forcing a distance, Lotor trying to harden himself where her beauty had softened him. He couldn't help but compare Allura to a witch, wondering if she was casting the same spell on him that she had placed on his father.

"I'm very happy to hear that." Allura said, seeming relieved.

As they moved through the ship, people came out to see their princess. There was much tears, and bowing going on, and Lotor was surprised when a few tossed flowers Allura's way. She maintained an air of dignity through it all, offering smiles to her people, and even touching a few hands as they walked by. The soldiers tensed when she hugged one woman, the old lady clinging to the girl as if she would never let her go.

Finally the old woman's daughter pulled her away, the woman whispering something urgently to the princess. Lotor couldn't resist asking, the prince risking a look at the princess. "What did she say to you?"

"She was..." A hesitation, Lotor quick to realize Allura was censoring what had been said. "She was merely wishing me a long and happy life."

"I see." He pursed his lips together, showing how mistrustful he was of her words. Lotor was almost tempted to learn Arusian, all in an attempt to be able to know just exactly what Allura and her people would say. He wouldn't be surprised if Zarkon did not have translators present, even among the ladies he had appointed as Allura's entourage. After all the spies would only be effective if they could understand the girl they were assigned to watch over.

At last they reached the docking bay, and in the distance they could see the tunnel ramp's entrance. Allura seemed to stiffen at the sight of it, as if trying to draw strength in preparation for the trek through it. More people were out in the docking bay, and they led a rousing cheer, crying out their princess' name. Allura smiled, though her eyes hinted at tears, and waved and blew kisses to her people.

They made slow progress to the tunnel ramp, Lotor almost tempted to grab Allura's arm in an effort to make her hurry. Once at the ramp, she paused, turning one last time to look at both the ship and the people. An unreadable expression was on her face, but Lotor was sure she was taking in what would be the last sight of her Arusian heritage.

The people seemed to be singing a mourning song, and though Allura's eyes turned misty, she drew up straight, and gave him a bright smile. "I'm ready." She said, and stepped into the ramp past him. Nanny and the two girls hurried after her, and Lotor paused to stare back at the Arusians. They had doubled in size, more people rushing out to catch one last glimpse of their princess. He wondered if she was beloved because she was a kind ruler, or if their devotion was spurned on by the sacrifice she was making for them in marrying King Zarkon.

Whatever the case, it shouldn't have mattered to him, Lotor stepping into the tunnel ramp. The spiral opening closed shut behind him, and he hurried to catch up to Allura and Cossack. She smiled at Lotor again, and Lotor found himself starting to return the smile before he remembered himself. He ended up glaring at her instead, and told himself her hurt look did not matter one bit to him.

To Be Continued...

Michelle

Almighty Tallest Angie, thanks. She won't ever fall in love with Zarkon but she's in a bad situation. And Lotor is not yet ready to whisk her away from it. You'll just have to be patient!

Christine, the Dark Rose Maiden, oh thanks! I'm pleased you feel that way regarding how Lotor and Zarkon's relationship is. :D It's always good to hear it's in cannon like behavior. *pleased smile.* Heh...Lotor is trying to be in control, but he's slowly cracking a little where Allura is concerned. Of course he's taken by her looks, and next chapter he gets to know her a little bit more on the journey back to Doom. Ha, I remember him thinking she's a witch cause she dazzles his crew, and she's always finding him whereever he tries to hide on the ship! (Trying to avoid her...but she won't let him! XD) I'm glad you like the title, and yeah things will get nasty all around. It'll be a complicated triangle even though Allura doesn't have any loving feeligns for Zarkon, he will insist on making his mark on her. =/

Dimera's Lover, thank you for the vote of confidance. :) I did not know that Zarkon was described as an over weight drinker that much. 0_0 I do remember Tamy's story, where Zarkon got some kind of potion that made him younger, and slightly better looking though. I dunno...I guess I figure he has to be in shape, since we saw him on the show, he fought Lotor and didn't die that time though Lotor sliced his clothes. But Zarkon had sliced Lotor back...I think his helmet. And now I sorta wanna do something about the racisim of the Drules...it might be interesting to explore in a story.

And your talk of Lotor's reaction to Allura sure had me giggling. Mind blowing! HA! I'm trying to remember is I wrote Haggar doing anything in the first six chapters that I've written so far. I think she will be making appearances...though right now I don't think she will have that big a role since the story is more about Allura and the two Drule royals. I'm actually debating having Haggar be jealous of Allura since she always wanted Zarkon for herself! ^^;;

Misty Gargoyle, glad I could make you laugh! Lotor sure had to drink a lot to get to that state! XD Oh and buckle in for a big eeew moment in a later chapter. It's worse than the kiss moment I think, though I cut it short since I didn't want to gross out people. Plus I think only my friend Nichole (Eleene on this site.) would like that sort of scene since she's Zarkon's number one fan. XD And yes you were close! 

Lotor Sincline, I ahve to check out the lyrics to the song you mentioned. I heard it a few times, but it's been ages since so I don't really remember much about it. Maybe it would further inspire me!

Drule Supremacy, thank you. *bows* I'm pleased that my stories can be popular with the Drule fans!


	4. Chapter 4

Lotor often told himself that things would have been just fine if Allura had chosen to remain inside her cabin during the flight to Doom. There would have been no chance to foster the early stages of a friendship with her, no chance to become impressed with her, or to let his heart soften even further towards his enemy. He was already so dangerously close to liking her just based on first impressions, her beauty such that it stirred something inside him.

He didn't want to have feelings for her, didn't want to extend himself beyond hating Allura. And yet she made it impossible to do anything but like her, the princess going out of her way to get to know him. He tried to avoid her at first, but even on a vessel as large as the fleet's flag ship there was only so many places he could run. She always managed to find him, and he often privately accused her of witchcraft to so effectively locate him.

When she wasn't chasing after him, she was mingling with the crew of the ship, the princess getting to know soldiers and servants alike. She was kind and courteous to everyone, and it wasn't long before she had charmed nearly the entire crew. They were not immune to her great beauty, the men admiring her openly. But her friendly nature also made her approachable, and it wasn't long before the Drule were coming to her, doting attention on their future queen, even gifting her with small tokens, or seeking her counsel on disagreements.

Lotor should have been annoyed at the last, as the man in charge of the fleet, it should have been up to him to oversee any problems between the crew. He certainly could admit it freed up his time, not having to deal with petty annoyances, though Lotor wondered how his father would take to his bride's meddling. Though she never made a nuisance of herself, touring the ship, and even coming to the command deck to watch over the procedures needed to keep the ship flying.

She was always with a chaperone, usually that angry, older woman. Where Allura was happy and smiling, Nanny was hostile and glaring, looking at the Drule with stern disapproval. She gave Lotor the impression that she felt the Drule weren't good enough to be in the princess' presence, and Lotor wondered if her attitude would improve once they were on Doom.

The other two ladies of Allura's entourage mainly kept to the cabin, seeming too timid and meek to venture far. They certainly didn't have the imposing presence of Nanny, and even their worst look wasn't half as menacing as the older woman's glare. Lotor grew accustomed to the woman's dirty looks, even finding amusement in the flustered way she squawked to Allura.

Of course he never did anything improper to earn Nanny's ire, but the woman seemed to measure the men around her princess with standards they could not reach. He wondered if even a King could impress this Nanny, and knew that his father would try to dispose of the woman the first chance he got.

He also knew the dismissal of Nanny would greatly upset Allura, the girl taking comfort in the woman's presence around her. In those early days before their arrival on Doom, Lotor would never guess that Allura's constant presence among the crew was due to her increasing nerves. She was privately worrying about her marriage, and the future that was uprooting her life from Arus.

She needed distractions, needed to keep busy so that she didn't sink into despair and cry all the time. So she took to ingratiating herself to the people, just being herself and letting them judge her on her sweet personality. Lotor wondered if he would have felt pity for her back then if he had known what a nervous mess she was inside. He had after all been too busy fighting his feelings for her, Lotor still at the stage where he was suspicious of her intentions in agreeing to marry King Zarkon.

He'd eventually learn she had had no choice, Zarkon had taken the decision out of her hands when he conquered Arus. The best Allura could do was to adapt to the situation she was thrown into, to play the gracious loser who accepted a ruthless King's mercy. It was rare of Zarkon to show such mercy, and practically unheard of for the King to force a situation where he would play benefactor to a conquered world. And all he asked for in return, was Allura. That and her utmost loyalty and obedience.

Given what little choices she had, it was no wonder Allura had agreed to marry Zarkon. She knew he could have taken her if she had refused, and her planet would have suffered for her rejection. At least now she could forge an alliance that would see Arus prosper rather than fall, her people free, and living in the wealth of the Doom Empire. She wasn't completely at peace with her choice, and those who knew to look closely at her, would often catch a wistful glaze in her eyes.

Allura often slipped into a melancholy state when alone, and it was during one such moment that Lotor came across her, seated on a bench on the viewing deck of the flagship. He caught her staring off to the distance, the far away look in her eyes showing she wasn't aware of her present surroundings. He almost turned away, wanting to give her that privacy, but couldn't resist staring at her.

He often wanted to gaze longingly at her, and he often had to control those urges, Lotor choosing to look anywhere but at Allura. This time, with her distracted, he stared, drinking in her beauty. She was dressed in pastel hues of blue and lavender, with the faintest of pink rimming the edge of her gown's bodice. She looked like springtime flowers, and he thought to himself how out of place she would look on Doom.

No doubt his father would do away with those modest gowns of hers, the dress not only covering her curves, but down right plain. She didn't dress like royalty, forgoing jewels and extravagant adornments. She was a simple girl when it came to her garments, and the plainness of her dresses suited her. Her beauty was such it would have outshone diamonds, and Lotor shuddered at the thought of Zarkon dressing her up like one of the painted whores that passed for ladies at the Doom court.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but suddenly a throat was clearing. He turned in the direction of the sound, and spied Nanny, the woman frowning at him. Allura went from that statue like stillness to movement, turning to look at him. Already that melancholy mask was gone, the girls' eyes bright as she smiled a greeting to him.

"Evening Princess Allura." Lotor said, and offered her a low bow of respect. She was already attempting to rise from her seat, to return his gesture. "There's no need." Lotor told her, urging her to remain seated.

"Evening your highness." She allowed a slight bow of her head, unable to let go of customs completely. Nanny grumbled something behind her, it could have been a greeting, or it could have been a curse. Lotor smiled all the same, amused when Nanny snorted.

"I see you're alone tonight." Lotor noted, eyes touching on the empty deck. There was none of the princess' usual admirers present, which was surprising in and of itself. "Shall I leave you to your contemplations?"

"No, stay!" Allura said it too quickly, sounding almost desperate for his company. He quirked an eyebrow at her, but nodded all the same, chuckling slightly at her blush.

"All right..." Lotor stepped closer to her, the nearness giving an intimacy to their conversation. Allura scooted over on the bench, patting the seat besides her. Lotor shook his head, giving her a polite rejection. "I can't stay long princess. They'll need me on the bridge. We're almost to Doom."

"Yes, I know..." She had paled at that, and her happy mask slipped long enough for him to notice how unnerved she was by the thought of arriving at her future home. "We'll be landing in what...two more hours?"

"More like an hour and a half." Lotor corrected. "In this final leg of the journey, we are pushing top speed. My father is growing impatient to meet with you." She seemed to pale further at that, her smile wavering. "It's not just my father..." Lotor added, hoping to distract her from thoughts of Zarkon. "All of Doom is eager to meet their future Queen."

She wasn't prone to performance anxiety, the thought of a whole planet of people waiting for her did not bother her in the slightest. "And I am eager to greet them." Allura said. "I've been practicing my Drule." She added after a pause. "Your crew has been most helpful in volunteering to go over the language lessons with me."

Lotor himself had helped her with some of her studies, the two practicing speaking Drule over a shared lunch. "No one will blame you if you speak Basic." Lotor told her, and she nodded.

"I know that. But I want to be able to greet my new subjects in their native tongue." She reached up to nervously fiddle her fingers in her hair, Nanny making a chiding sound. The noise from the older woman had the princess releasing her hair, hands returning to her lap. "I've been practicing my speech. I hope I don't stumble..."

"I'm sure you'll do fine." Lotor assured her, tone warm.

"I hope so." She repeated, then sighed. "What is Doom like this time of year?"

"It's not much different from any other season." Lotor told her. "Doom seems to go from two extremes, cold and windy, or cold and rainy."

"I hear that Doom is a barren world...that not much grows on it." She looked up at him, eyes seeming to beg him to tell her otherwise. "Is that true?"

"I'm afraid so." Lotor admitted, and she seemed to wilt. "Doom is not like your Arus, it's not suitable for most flowers to grow. Only the sturdiest of plants can survive, and they are twisted, ugly things."

"I see..."

"But..." He was quick to add, wanting to cheer her up. "My father has been sure to import plenty of flowers for your arrival. The bouquets were just beginning to arrive when I left to meet with you at Navenia. No doubt the castle will be transformed into a veritable flower paradise."

She looked surprised to hear that, shaking her head. "Are not flowers expensive on Doom? I am surely not worth the fuss."

"My father can afford it." Lotor retorted. "He's already spent several fortunes worth on the wedding, and the festivals. Every city and town on planet Doom has been decorated in celebration of your arrival."

"They have?" She exclaimed, mouth falling open in shock.

He grinned at her reaction, and began painting a picture with his words. "The city capital of Doom is the most extravagant. With garland of flowers woven into the street's pillars, forming arches under which the people must travel. The streets are littered with fallen petals, and the city smells sweeter than it has in years. There's balloons everywhere, and twinkling white lights. The people rejoice, and were already heavy into the celebrations before I left."

"They must truly love your King to be celebrating the fact that he has chosen a bride." Allura commented, and Lotor shrugged.

"They love a good excuse to party."

"Oh." A soft comment from her, Allura glancing downwards.

"But they are eager to see you." Lotor added hastily. "We've all heard the rumors of the great beauty that captured our King's attention."

"I am no great beauty!" Allura stammered, flustered and blushing heavily.

"You've never truly looked at yourself in a mirror then." Lotor replied, his words more blunt that he had intended. She just continued to blush, not saying anything. Nanny continued to eyeball him, disapproval radiating of her. Lotor cast about for some topic to distract Allura from her embarrassment, and suddenly pointed at a distant planet on the view screen. 'See that there?" He blurted out with more excitement than he should have. "That brown and gray planet is Doom."

"Doom..." She followed his finger to gaze at the planet, and he wondered what she thought of the dull colors of the world.

"That's your new home Allura." Lotor added when it seemed she wasn't about to say anything else. "I know it doesn't look like much from space, but trust me. It will look better once you can see the ground."

"I'll take your word for it." She murmured. Allura didn't seem inclined to keep the conversation going, and so with a stiff bow he excused himself from her side. He hurried away, but not before he heard say something to Nanny, the words spoken in the Arusian tongue. Allura sounded no less excited now, than she had before, in fact he could almost hear a note of despair in her voice.

It was harder than it should have been to ignore her unhappiness, Lotor trying to distract himself with busy work on the bridge of the ship. He wasn't complete successful, Lotor haunted by memories of Allura's voice. He found himself wishing he could make her truly happy, and then frowning at himself for thinking such a thing. He knew it was none of his business whether his father's bride was happy or not, knew he had no right to try and cheer her up, or help her to adjust to the changes life on Doom would bring her.

He heard reports from his soldiers, the men explaining that the princess had remained on the viewing deck, watching the ship's descent onto Doom. He wanted to have the fleet pass by the capital, to show Allura the city in all it's festive glory. But knew he didn't dare, not with his father breathing impatience for his bride's arrival. All too soon castle Doom was within sight of the fleet, and Lotor sent word up to Allura to prepare herself for departure.

They met in the docking bay, Allura accompanied by all three of her ladies. Nanny was standing behind her, fussing over the girl's hair and dress, an angry glower on her face though she did not look at anyone in particular. Lotor realized with a start that Nanny was trying to distract herself from what was happening to her princess, the woman's eyes actually wet with unshed tears.

It unnerved him to realize the seeming unflappable woman was so upset over the princess impending marriage. It wasn't just Nanny who was upset, the two girls Allura had chosen to accompany her to Doom were blinking back tears, one clinging to the other's arm as they walked behind their princess. Allura was the only completely composed, the princess holding her head high, eyes almost defiant in the moment.

Lotor guided her over to the ramp that would lead them off the ship, and found himself hesitating at the top of it. "Are you ready?" He asked, voice low as to not be overheard by any of the other soldiers who were standing near as the princess' honor guard.

"I am." She gave a nod of her head, as though trying to assure herself of that too. Lotor had a moment where he wanted to tell her it was not too late, that she should tell Zarkon no. But that was an absurd idea, he knew she had little choice on what happened to her now, and could only affect the future of her planet and her people.

Nanny said something, voice brunt and businesslike as she fluffed out the cape that had been given to Allura. The navy blue material did not match her summer colored dress, but at least it would protect her from Doom's cold weather.

"Then let us be off." Lotor said, and offered Allura his arm. He tried to tell himself it was pure protocol that had him do that, but really he wanted to lend her his steadying presence. Her fingers shook on his arm, betraying the tremble that was working it's way through her body. She was nervous, and trying to remain unaffected by what was going on around her.

Cossack led the first of the soldiers off the ship, the armed men stepping forward to secure the premises. When the all clear signal was given, Lotor began walking Allura down the ramp. She continued to shake, though one wouldn't be able to tell that from just looking at her.

Their footsteps echoed with a metallic ring, and then they were stepping on the tarmac field that made up the castle's front lawn. Even with the field as large as it was, there wasn't enough room for the entire fleet. Lotor's flag ship, and Allura's yacht had landed the closest to the castle, and he could see slaves were walking up and down the ramp of that ship, already bringing Allura's things off of it.

Somewhere among her belongings was the dowry that would be offered to her future husband, and Lotor couldn't hide that he was curious as to what sort of wealth the Arusians could have amassed for their princess.

Allura had paused to get her bearings, turning her head this way and that to take in her first sight of the castle. Lotor tried to see it from her eyes, knowing the building was an imposing structure, all dark gray stone and jagged towers made of sharp rock. Brilliant yellow lights flashed from window to window, but otherwise darkness loomed from the inside.

Occasionally the castle was lit up by a stark flash of lightning, thunder booming as it signaled the coming storm. Allura seemed to shiver, and clutch at her cape, and Lotor urged her to hurry.

"Come, you'll be warmer inside." Lotor told her, and began walking the short distance to the castle's stone steps. Allura followed him, and Nanny made a sound, the woman displeased to see just how many steps they would have to climb to get to entrance's landing. Allura continued to hold onto Lotor's arm, almost clinging to him as they began climbing upwards.

The soldiers ignored Nanny and the other two girls, leaving them to flounder as they tried to navigate the steep stairs. Nanny was soon panting, breath huffing and puffing from the long climb. Occasionally she would grunt out a sound of complaint, but for the most part she was too busy trying to concentrate on her breathing to talk. Allura seemed to manage the climb much better, her color was good, and she breathed normally. It left Lotor impressed by her fortitude, the prince knowing that humans often had trouble with the stairs the first few times.

Slaves also labored on the stairs, carrying the princess' belongings up them. The slaves couldn't afford to complain, they would be beaten or worse if they did. So they struggled as best they could managed, sweating and red faced, and hardly dressed appropriately for the cold weather. He wondered what Allura thought of slavery, Lotor remembering how she had treated everyone on board the flag ship with equal kindness, even the slaves.

He wouldn't get the chance to quiz her on her standing where slavery was concerned for they had reached the landing. Nanny seemed to gasp, the sound so distorted everyone turned to look at her in concern. She was sweating profusely, her dress bearing wet stains on the back. When the woman realized she had drawn everyone's attention, she grew flustered, wheezing out a comment as she waved at them to continue their business.

Lotor looked at Allura, then shrugged. If Nanny was insisting she was fine, he wouldn't pause to wait for her to catch her breath. He turned to glance at Cossack, and barked out a command in Drule. Cossack nodding, and gestured for two of his men to open the doors to the castle. The metal doors towered above them, all iron framework, and gilded symbols written on it's surface. It was as imposing as the rest of the castle, and the doors let out an ominous creak as they were forced open.

For one instant the darkness of the castle's insides beckoned ominously, and then footsteps were heard. To Lotor's shock and astonishment, the King's guards walked out onto the landing, a trumpeter heralding their arrival. A few seconds pause, Lotor recovering enough to close his mouth, and then his father himself was walking out into the cold.

Zarkon was dressed in one of his new suits, a black cape lined with blood red descending down his shoulders. Blood red piping was threaded over the black of his jacket, matching silk handkerchief folded neatly over one pocket. He was wearing his best crown, it's gold gleaming, it's jewels twinkling. Everyone, including Allura had gone down to their knees, paying homage and submission to the king.

Allura continued to hold onto Lotor's arm, and now her nails practically dug through his sleeve to cut into his skin. He kept a bland expression on his face, not betraying that she was kind of hurting him. Zarkon made them kneel for several seconds more, before he bade them rise, and Lotor took to helping Allura stand in one smooth motion.

"Father..." Lotor began, and swept forward with Allura. "As was my royal duty, I have safely brought you your bride."

"It's about time." Zarkon grumbled in Drule. But he barely looked at Lotor, his eyes all for Allura. Lotor felt uneasy at the open lust in his father's eyes, the King practically leering at the princess. He smiled at her, revealing his sharp fangs as he asked her a question in Basic. "Well, my dear, what do you think of your new home?"

Allura was pale faced, but kept a rigid smile on her face. "It's...very different from what I'm used to." She spoke in Drule, words hesitant though Lotor could not tell if it was from her nervousness at the situation, or her lack of confidence when it came to speaking the language.

Zarkon's eyes flashed with surprise, then pleasure, the King grinning wider. "Ha, no doubt." He switched back to Drule, a chuckle escaping him at her answer. "You'll find there's little similarities between this world and Arus. But I hope in time you'll come to think of it as your home."

"I'm sure I will." Allrua was still clinging to Lotor's arm, and now Zarkon fixed a pointed stare at her hand. The girl immediately flushed, letting go of Lotor as though his touch burned her.

"Come..." Zarkon offered his arm to her, and to Allura's credit, she did not hesitate in taking it. The king tucked her in close to his body, actually daring to lean in and sniff at her hair. Lotor had to fight to keep from making fists, reminding himself this was not his woman but his father's. He had no right to be bothered by the sight of his father indulging himself with Allura.

"Let's get you settled into your rooms for the night." With that, Zarkon was leading her into the castle, his guards moving to follow. They formed a blockade between Lotor and his father, the prince fuming at being so ignored. He wasn't the only one, Nanny was muttering under her breath, and the two girls were attempting to soothe her.

Zarkon did not cast a glance back at Lotor and his entourage, his attention completely focused on Allura. He took care to constantly lean in to whisper in her ear, or rake his claws through her hair. Allura endured it all with poise and confidence, the girl not even flinching one time at the king's touches.

"You must be tired from your long journey." The King continued solicitously. "No doubt you'll be wanting to rest before the wedding."

"I'd like that, yes." Allura admitted with a nod.

"It pains me to spend even one more night separate from you..." Zarkon's voice was husky with desire. "But I have the utmost faith that all good things are worth the wait." She flushed at that, ducking her head shyly so that her hair hide her expression from them all. Zarkon wasn't content to leave her be, brushing her hair back and letting his claws linger on her cheek.

"It will be a long day of ceremonies." Continued Zarkon, and Lotor wondered if Allura understood enough Drule to follow all that the King was saying. "A tiresome but

necessary formality if we want the people to acknowledge you as my queen. I know, some of what we do will seem barbaric to you, but I believe you will conduct yourself appropriately."

Allura was just nodding her head, and now Lotor was certain she hadn't been able to follow it all. He also felt a sudden flash of guilt, Lotor wishing he had thought to prepare Allura for some of the more gruesome aspects of the ceremonies that would tie her together with Zarkon. He knew he wouldn't get a chance to privately speak to her now to correct that over sight, Lotor hoping Allura would be able to maintain her composure during the ceremonies.

"Ah...here we are..." Zarkon led Allura over to a door, and one of his guards hurried to open it for the royal couple. "This is the apartment I've appointed to you. I hope it's to your tastes." He led Allura inside the room, and Lotor could make out the sound of her soft comments, the girl expressing her gratitude for the rooms the King had given her.

Satisfied with her words, Zarkon turned to her, Lotor squeezing past the King's guards just in time to catch sight of his father leaning in to kiss Allura squarely on the lips. She seemed as startled as Lotor was, the girl holding herself absolutely still as the King savored the taste of her mouth. Lotor found his fists clenching, leaving him to try and control his anger.

The kiss lasted longer than was appropriate in view of others. Lotor wanted to growl and tear Zarkon off Allura, remind the old man to allow the princess her dignity in front of the guards.

When Zarkon finally pulled away, his eyes had darkened with desire, the man slowly licking his lips as though trying to get one last taste of the princess. Lotor couldn't see Allura's face, had no idea what sort of expression she wore. But Zarkon seem satisfied all the same, the King touching her hair, and rearranging it on her shoulders before stepping away from her.

"Pleasant dreams Allura." Zarkon was almost laughing, his bow practically mocking. She curtsied back to him, and then the King was stepping away from her to walk out of the room. The guards moved with him, and then Nanny and the other two girls were allowed to enter the room. They immediately flocked to their princess' side, their voices cooing concern as they touched her.

"Lotor, we need to talk." Zarkon's brisk voice was calling out to him, Lotor tearing his eyes away from the scene in Allura's room. Zarkon was waiting rather impatiently for Lotor to step towards him, and the prince wondered why. He'd not find out until they were a corridor away from Allura's apartment, Lotor falling into step besides his father. "So tell me. What was her behavior like on the ship?"

Lotor blinked, surprised. This is what his father wanted to know? "She was fine. She acted with dignity and kindness, treating all onboard with respect." Lotor tried not to smile, remembering how taken the crew was with the princess. "You would be proud." He added. "She did not bring shame to you or her people."

"Good." Zarkon nodded in satisfaction. "I worried that she'd cause a scene. You know how brides can be with their last minute jitters." They walked in silence a few more feet, and then Zarkon began drilling him with questions about his bride. Everything from what she had said, to what she had worn, and what foods she had enjoyed. Zarkon wanted to know it all, and Lotor wondered if there was a pattern to his madness.

He tried to answer the questions as best he could, though in truth Lotor hadn't paid that close attention to certain things. Zarkon was less than pleased to hear Allura had been allowed to interact with the soldiers with only another woman as her chaperone.

"The crew loved her." Lotor quickly assured him. "Each and every one of them adores your bride. None would think to lay a finger on her, unless it was by your command."

"That is the way it should be." Zarkon grumbled, though he still wore that dissatisfied look. Lotor could only wonder at the reason behind it, Zarkon not one to offer answers about his moods. "Get some rest Lotor. I wasn't kidding when I said it would be a long day tomorrow."

"Of course." Lotor said, and bowed to his father. Zarkon gave a dismissive grunt, his guards moving past the prince to follow him through the castle corridors. Left to his own devices, Lotor really wanted to go get a drink, the prince thinking to drink away the bad feelings he had about this match between Zarkon and Allura. But he knew he would not stop once started, and Lotor could not afford to show up at the ceremonies hung over.

"It's just one more day." Lotor whispered to himself. One more day, and then he would be free of obligations, and could drink himself into a stupor. Maybe then the aching in his heart would grow dull.

To Be Continued!

Michelle

Christine, the Dark Rose Maiden, thansks! Ultimately I want it to be a tale where Lotor and Allura start to have feelings for each other, feelings that would put them in danger if Zarkon were to find out. Heh...I am imagining a scene in the future, where Lotor goes to Haggar to exorcise him of his love for Allura. NAturaly she fails!

Allura is putting on a brave front, but when you see the chapters from her point of view, you can see how nervous she is and upset. If I remember right five and six are her POVS.

Misty Gargoyle, thank you! Well she wasn't a maid, but one of Allura's ladies in waiting. So a noble whose kinda paid to be Allura's friend. Still embarassing that Lotor mistook her for the princess! XD

Lotor Sincline, yep you guessed right. That was Coran! And yes, next two chapters are Allura's point of view. Thanks!


	5. Chapter 5

She hadn't expected to get much sleep, the girl so nervous she thought her fears would keep her up all night. Add to the fact she was in a strange environment, in a bed that was not her own, and it was ground for a sleepless night. And yet, she had passed out almost immediately upon laying down, Allura drifting into troubled dreams. It seemed even in sleep she could not escape her fate, Allura remembering the kiss her husband to be had forced on her.

Never had she been kissed in such a matter, the old Drule shoving his tongue into her mouth. She had been too shocked to react, and that had saved her, for if Allura had gone with her first impulse she would have surely bitten Zarkon.

Instead she just stood there, skin crawling as he placed his hands on her shoulder, clutching at her through the cape's fabric. She had been able to feel his sharp tipped claws through the heavy material, as though no barrier existed between them.

Everything about the kiss had been distasteful to her, from the feel of Zarkon's fat lips smashing into hers, to his possessive touch, and his tongue wiggling about her mouth. He hadn't even had the grace to do this in private, and she had felt the eyes of the guards and her entourage on her. It had been a relief when he finally pulled back, and though she had not managed to smile at him even part way, he had been satisfied.

The memory of the kiss haunted her dreams, Allura knowing that soon the King would take more from her than just her lips. And she'd be powerless to stop him, his bride and his property, Zarkon having every right in the world to use and abuse her as he saw fit. She woke up with a gasp, not quite screaming and heard voices in the rooms outside her bedroom.

Thankfully they had not heard her awakening sounds, Allura wanted a moment to herself. She stared at the bedroom, eyes barely noting the fancy adornments and pleasing aesthetics that surrounded her. This would be her first and most likely last night sleeping in this room, Allura knowing it would be required of her to attend to her husband in his chambers.

It wasn't the way they did things on Arus, and Nanny had acted suitable horrified on Allura's behalf. On Arus, the king and queen kept separate apartments, the husband being forced to beg for his wife's affection. The queen held all the power, the right to deny her husband's desires. On Doom there would be no such rejection of Zarkon, Allura shivering as she realized this apartment would be hers only during the day.

Her nights would belong to her husband. A part of her had known that, but she had thought for some small reprieve, thinking him an old man who would not make use of her body too often. Her hopes had been dashed with the arrival of the ladies the King had appointed her, four young Drules who were of noble birth. Their clothes alone outshone Allura's attendants, the Drule females not shy about displaying their wealth be it in expensive fabrics, or layering themselves with many bracelets and necklaces.

The Drule females had sniffed haughty to see Allura wore no jewels, clucking their tongues in disapproval. Nanny had glared right back at them, hardly impressed with their noble backgrounds and fancy clothes. To Nanny, the Drules were all the same, savage barbarians who had invaded their peaceful kingdom.

Nanny was horrified when Allura translated the Drule females words, the princess dull with shock as she was told of the sleeping arrangements. The King expected her to stay by his side, to sleep and have sex with him. Nanny had gone red faced at those words, shaking her head and shouting refusals. She kept insisting they do it the Arus way, that Zarkon should come begging for Allura's time.

Allura had wisely not translated Nanny's demands, knowing the woman's mouth was liable to get them all in trouble. It was perhaps fortunate that Nanny did not know enough Basic to be understood, and the woman couldn't even manage the most simplest of phrases in Drule. It gave Allura the chance to censor what Nanny had to say, and she loathe to think what would happen if the woman took it upon herself to seriously learn the languages.

There was five chambers in all, Allura's bedroom being the largest. On either side of her room, was two smaller chambers, bedrooms for her entourage. The Drule females had been less than pleased by the fact that they would have to share space with the Arusian ladies. They had apparently been expecting only two per room, and now they had to crowd in seven people per two bedrooms.

Not surprisingly, a divide was initiated, the Drules taking one room, the Arusians the other. Allura would spend much of her time trying to translate between the two groups, Nanny and the Drules trying to out do each other when it came to bossing the other side around. Little work was done in unpacking Allura's belongings, the main chamber that doubled as sitting room crowded with trunks and suitcases.

Finally Allura had given up trying to play overseer to her attendants, announcing she was going to bed. And now she was awake, and dreading dealing with her ladies and their squabbles. But more than that, she was not looking forward to preparing for her wedding.

"Allura?" Came Nanny's voice, the woman knocking on the door. "Are you up child?"

"I'm up Nanny." Allura called out, holding back a sigh. She was already shifting off the bed when Nanny pulled open the door, one of the Drule females squeezing in past her. Nanny made a face at the raven haired female's back, angry that the girl was intruding on her time with Allura.

"Princess..." The female was bowing, but her eyes were on Allura's face, attentive. "We have your bath warmed and waiting for you."

"Um...all right." Allura said, allowing the female to tug her out of the room. Nanny followed close behind, Allura being lead into the bathroom where the other three Drules waited. They were dressed in white robes, and looking expectantly at Allura. The princess blinked in surprise, having a bad feeling that they were about to insist on helping her bathe.

"Um..." Allura began, finding the raven haired Drule whose name she was sure was Meleenia, was moving to undo the laces of her nightgown. "I can do that myself..."

"Oh no!" protested Meleenia in Basic. "This is part of our ritual. We must bathe and prepare you for your husband."

The words simply made Allura uneasy, the girl giving Nanny an uncertain look, as though the woman could save her from this. Nanny seemed to guess what was going on, she began angrily arguing with Meleenia, a sight that should have proved comical since both sides did not understand the other. Anastasia and Geneive came out of their room to see what was going on, their eyes widening to see the shouting match Nanny and Meleenia were engaging in.

The voices escalated in volume, Allura fearing the guards would come to check on the disturbance. She ended up interjecting herself into the argument, Allura reluctantly allowing the Drules to have their way. Nanny seemed to sputter in anger, flouncing out of the room as Meleenia smiled in triumph.

The Drule was quick to strip her of her nightgown, clicking her tongue over the childish looking garment. Allura tried not to blush, allowing Meleenia to help her out of her undergarments and into the bathing pool. The three Drule females immediately disrobed and joined her in the pool, and Allura found there was not one spot on her that went untouched.

The Drule females were thorough, using scented soaps and shampoos, and massaging oils into her skin. Meleenia explained they were anointing her with oils and herbs meant to bring good luck to her marriage, and promote a happy future with her husband. Allura kept quiet, thinking it would take a lot more than just oils to make her happy with Zarkon.

The bathing took nearly an hour, and Allura was positive she was turning into a prune when they helped her out of the pool. A robe was given to her, along with slippers and a towel for her hair. And then she was brought back to her bedroom, the Drule females working to dry her off. The attendants from Arus entered the room, and it was Nanny's confidence that kept them from fleeing, the woman glaring a challenge at Meleenia.

The Drule females did not depart, but allowed Nanny and the two girls from Arus to attend to Allura's hair, curlers and an iron being brought out to primp Allura's mane

into thick ringlets. Soon the Drule females brought out her wedding dress, and Allura couldn't help staring at the powder blue garment. It would be form fitting, clinging tight across her curves, the material loosening enough around her legs to allow her to be able to walk without difficulty.

It had a long train, one that would drag behind her for several feet. But the train could not compare to the veil's length, the clear material would trail down from her head to several yards behind her. It would fasten over in place with pins and a simple gold crown, and the veil's shorter side would be brought to cover her down to her shoulders. She wouldn't be allowed to show her face until after she was sworn to Zarkon, the veil would lend an air of mystery to her looks.

"I think it's terrible." Sniffed Nanny, glaring at the blue dress. "Not even letting you pick out your own gown."

"They do things differently here, Nanny." Allura replied, wiggling out of the robe in preparation to get dressed. Panties and a strapless bra was given her, silk in fabric, but otherwise plain in their whiteness.

"What does a man know about picking out a woman's clothing?" Nanny demanded. "It's not even the right color for a wedding!"

"Who are we to say if it's right or wrong?" Allura asked, leaning on Meleenia for support as she stepped into the gown. Geneive helped pull it up Allura's body, and Anastasia vied with one of the Drule females for the honor to lace up the back. Allura had to hold her breath, finding the dress was snug, almost indecent in the way it clung to her body like a second skin.

In the corner of the bedroom, sat the cage with her mice friends, the little critters looking agitated at being confined for so long. Allura had regretfully explained to them they couldn't roam free just yet, the Drule females holding an unnatural fear of the rodents. There had been much screaming and looks of contempt when Cheesy and the other three mice had been brought into the apartment.

Allura had tried to explain that they were harmless, disease free, and most importantly of all, her friends but the Drule females seemed to purposely misunderstand. Allura didn't trust that there would be no accidents if she allowed the mice free reign in the apartment, the girl preferring to keep them locked up than allow a cruel fate to befall them.

If this had been Arus, the mice would have had the whole castle to wander, and they would have been an integral part of the ceremony. But this was Doom, and she reminded herself that her ways did not reign supreme here. She held back her sighs, and sat when urged, Nanny coming up behind Allura to pin the veil in place. She actually slapped Meleenia's hands away, Nanny claiming this honor for herself.

In the mirror Allura could see Meleenia scowling hatefully at Nanny's back, but the older woman was oblivious. She gently placed the veil on Allura, and fitted the crown in place. A few pins were added, and Allura found herself gazing through gauze. It was just cloudy enough that she would need assistance in walking, Allura fearing she would stumble into a wall or even worse a person.

Once the veil was in place, there was not much to do, Meleenia leaving to speak with the guards outside the apartment. In an hours time her escort would arrive, the men dressed in black armor, that was laced with white threads, and held blood red leather beneath their chest plates. She'd later learn they were dressed in the colors that signified a wedding was about to happen, or a funeral.

An argument would break out between her ladies, the women all wanting to carry the end of Allura's veil. It was finally decided that a Drule should do it, because they would know better what was expected of them during the ceremony. It didn't mean that the other six women were left behind, they too would attend the ceremonies, but at a distance.

A pretty Drule female with her white hair braided into a complex bun was the one chosen to help carry Allrua's veil. Her name was Freyja, and had to stand way behind Allura in order to not wrinkle the veil. With Freyja behind her, Allura and the guards began traveling through castle Doom. Allura felt her nerves increasing, she was glad for the veil that blurred her face, it kept her expression hidden from nosy eyes. It didn't stop her hands from turning damp with nervous sweat, or her heart from beating too fast.

She didn't know where they were taking her, and Allura was surprised when they arrived not at the throne room, but the hanger area inside the castle. An open roof cruiser was waiting for her, Allura being escorted inside, along with Freyja and the rest of her attendants. The women were forced to squish in the front seat, Allura left to sit in the back by herself.

It was explained to her that they would be driving to the temple where the actual wedding would take place. It was implied that several ceremonies would occur, and Allura wondered just what sort of religion the Drules practiced. She found herself wishing she had quizzed someone, Prince Lotor or one of the many helpful soldiers onboard the flagship, about what was to happen.

Instead she was riding blind, almost literally as she sat stiffly in the back seat of the cruiser. It's engines hummed, and with a smell of brunt ozone, it took off at a leisurely speed, the cruises leaving through the hanger doors, and out into the wilds of Doom.

To Allura's surprise, there was people outside, and they cheered when they saw her cruiser. She couldn't understand everything they said, but knew they were wishing their king a long and happy marriage. It was quite a contrast to the reception the impending marriage got on Arus, her people mourning it and her, fearing she would die before getting a chance to return to them.

Confetti was thrown, the sky seeming to snow with the colorful pieces of paper, and as they passed each group of Drule citizens, the people began to follow the cruiser. They followed it all the way to the temple, Allura spying a pyramid shaped building that was decorated with banners. A blood red carpet extend out it's main doors, the cruiser pulling up besides it.

She was helped out of her ride, Freyja hurrying to take hold of her veil once more. A guard took Allura by the arm, and led her into the temple, and she found the inside was dimly lit, and crowded with Drules. In the darkness, all their eyes seemed to glow as they looked at her, lending an eerie feel to the proceedings. All the way in the front of the temple, was a huge pool of water, deep enough in places to drown a man.

She shivered at that thought, clinging gratefully to her escort's arm as she was led down the carpet. Past the pool, was a stone platform, elevated close to the ceiling. There was steps leading down into the pool, and Allura realized with a start she was expected to cross it to reach the platform. She started to hesitate, unsure of what to do, knowing her long dress would surely dragged her down in the water.

The guard kept dragging her forward, and the closer they got to the pool, she could make out the figures standing on top the platform. King Zarkon and his son, Prince Lotor, along with a woman garbed in the sheerest of silk. There was nothing left to the imagination of the woman's body, even her most private spots were exposed. No one seemed to care, their eyes were all for Allura, who was too busy wondering why Lotor and Zarkon were not wet.

She got her answer soon enough, there was stepping stones in the pool, somehow secured in place so they did nothing more than dip slightly when a person's weight was put on one. Allura weighed a lot less than Lotor and Zarkon, the stones barely reacted to her feet upon their surface. Freyja crossed the pool with her, the female confidant as she held Allura's veil.

She was still unsteady as she crossed, Allura having difficulty seeing through her veil. She somehow managed to not fall into the pool, nor did she slip as she climbed the steps up to the platform. Zarkon was waiting to take her arm, ushering her over to the scantily clad woman. A whisper in her ear from him, had her informed that the woman was a Drule priestess, and Allura's eyes widened in shock at the thought of a holy woman going around so naked.

She couldn't follow much of the ceremony, the priestess speaking too fast in Drule. She seemed to be reciting prayers, hands clasped together as though she was begging the Drule God to bless this union. Incense was lighted, and the heady mixture had Allura growing unsteady, her eyes and limbs feeling heavy. She actually swayed in place, Zarkon tightening his grip on her to keep her from tipping over.

She didn't know what was in the incense to make her react that way, but Allura didn't like it. Nor did she like the possessive way Zarkon held her arm, his thumb caressing the inside of it. He kept looking at her, and before she had met the King, she had always thought looks were harmless. Not Zarkon's! The man seemed to undress her with his eyes.

The fact that he would do so soon with his hands had her shuddering in distaste, Allura aware that Zarkon felt the shiver go through her. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, his fangs grazing against her. "Are you cold my dear?" He asked, and she said nothing. "Don't worry, I'll soon be warming you up."

She felt ill at the very thought, Allura fearing the combination of the incense and his words enough to make her want to vomit. But somehow she held back that urge, grateful she hadn't had breakfast yet.

The priestess was still chanting, and now she turned to the altar behind her. A fire burned in the center of the altar, and to its side lay several items. Allura couldn't make out what they were, not in the dark, not until the priestess lifted one and drew near. Allura gasped in horror, recognizing the thick blade she wielded. She didn't understand it's purpose, or why Zarkon was forcing her hand to turn palm up.

Not until the priestess suddenly slashed out with blade, Allura unable to hold in her panicked scream. Laughter seemed to erupt at her cry, and she could hear Nanny and the Arusian girls shouting. Blood was welling out thick and fast from her palm, and Allura stared in dizzy astonishment at the red liquid. She was even more astounded when Zarkon lifted her hand to his mouth, the King parting his fat lips to let his tongue come out and lick at her hand.

That was enough to get her shivering in disgust, her voice failing her as she wanted to scream. The urge was even worse when Zarkon greedily fastened his mouth around her wound, his fangs digging into her as he began sucking at her blood. And all the while he stared at her, eyes looking perverse with desire. He made obscene noises as he drank her blood, reveling in the taste of her.

She began trying to hold in her revulsion, a dry gag escaping her. And then Zarkon was releasing her hand, and offering his to the priestess. Allura's own eyes widened, they couldn't mean for her to drink the Drule's blood, could they?

The priestess was merciless, slashing open Zarkon's hand. The woman said something to Allura, but all the princess could do was shake her head no. Zarkon seemed to sigh in disappointment, but locked their bleeding hands together, pressing the wounds against one another. She didn't understand why, would never be able to forget the feel of it even after she learned it was one way to ensure she mingled her blood with that of her husbands.

Ideally during the wedding, the groom and the bride would drink of one another. But allowances were being made for the King's all too human bride. Allura was hardly grateful for that, fighting not to faint, terrified that if she dropped down and interrupted the ceremony, they would start over from the beginning. Her head began to pound, Allura wanting this nightmare to be over with.

Zarkon grunted, and the priestess spoke, gesturing for them to pull apart. Lotor approached the King with gauze, and began tending to his father's wound. Freyja had let go of Allura's veil, the length of it descending down the platforms steps to trail it's tip into the water, and took to bandaging up Allura's hand. She wondered if the ceremony was over, but the priestess continued to drone onwards.

Ceremonial wine was poured into an oddly shaped mug that sat on the altar. Allura and Zarkon took turns drinking from it, and it wasn't until the princess had her turn that she realized she was drinking out of a hollowed out human skull. She nearly dropped it at that point, the wine already in her mouth. All kinds of thoughts raced through her head, Allura wondering just who the skull had belonged too.

The ceremony would continue, and soon it became apparent why the pool was so deep. Humans, slaves by the look of their ragged clothes, were brought forth by the King's guard. The humans were shoved into the pool, the Drules holding them down until they drowned. Allura couldn't handle such mindless cruelty, and was hardly reassured when told it was Zarkon's choice of sacrifice to offer up to the Drule Gods.

She learned the sacrifice could have been anything, but that the Drule Gods valued lives the most. Many of the Drules didn't like to sacrifice their slaves, but Zarkon chose to show off his wealth in killing his strongest and most healthy slaves. She also learned the bodies would be stripped of their flesh, their bones harvested to make holy artifacts, such as the skull mug they had drunk out of.

At last the time came for the vows to be exchanged, the priestess pulling double duty by speaking in both Drule and Basic. She looked directly at Allura when she asked the princess to honor and serve, and above all obey her future husband. Allura felt the eyes of the assembly on her, felt Zarkon's threatening squeeze on her arm, and blew out a breath.

She spoke the words of submission, going down on her knees before the King. He would not be returning the honor, merely grinning down at her, expression lustful. She took his hand, the one that had not been cut, and pressed kisses over his knuckles. "I, Allura of Arus, do solemnly swear to uphold my vows to you. I submit to all things where you are concerned. Your desire is my desire, your happiness is my happiness. I am nothing without you, and everything that you allow."

The words were without inflection, Allura neither bold nor sorrowful as she said them. She spoke as though dead, staring not at her husband, but at his hand which she still held.

The priestess then urged Zarkon to speak, the man practically purring as he said the following. "I, Zarkon of Doom, do take you Allura of Arus as my lawful wife and property. I will rule over you with a stern but merciful hand, and guide you to serve me better." He was reaching for her veil, tossing it back to reveal her face to him. Her back was to the gathered crowd, she could whispers as they hungered for the chance to see what she looked like at long last.

He reached for her hands, and with a might jerk of his arms, hauled Allura to her feet. The priestess came forward one last time, this time with plain gold rings in her hands. Zarkon seemed to take great pleasure in placing the ring on his bride's finger, smiling and chuckling. He held still for Allura to do the same to him, though she kept her face an indifferent mask.

Once the rings were in place, the priestess stepped back, her voice pronouncing them husband and wife for all to hear. The gathered Drule leapt to their feet, thunderous applause ringing through the temple. Zarkon turned her to face the crowd, and they seemed to grow even more wild at the sight of her. Allura just felt like crying, and she nearly burst into tears when Zarkon drew her in for one, lingering kiss.

To Be Continued!

Michelle

Christine, the Dark Rose Maiden, yes...it crumbles some times (her compusre), but she always manages to at least retain it (So far at least!) when Zarkon and his Drule spies are watching. But it's so rough on her...Man I wouldn't want to give up Arus for Doom, unless, and this is a big maybe, it was to a kind, handsome prince. Not a evil, mean tyrant like Zarkon whose so scary and foul. The exorcism scene should be fun to write...at least I hope it will be. But that's sometime in the future when he gets desperate. Nanny is just lucky she doesn't speak Drule, or her mouth would get her into loads more trouble! It may still get her into trouble in the future...and yeah, it's a touch choice, which is worse waiting or the actual happening. I do hope to continue Masquerade soon! As you know, I started work on Divine again. I had spent the other night rereaidng the first 15 chapters, and finally got some chapers out. I'm about to start writing chapter 21 if I can stop my slacking off for today. 18 and 19 I feel I really got back into my stride for that fic. Masquerade, I know what I want to do with it to get them out of the current bad situation, but first I needed to reread the whole story to refresh my mind of the small details I worked in.

Misty Gargoyle, oh thanks! I'm glad you like this version of Allura that I am writing! :D And yes, I hope your words prove true, and people stay on the edge for the twists and turns of these three and their complex relationship. ^_-


	6. Chapter 6

The binding ceremony at the temple was but the first of the many events planned for her wedding, Allura being taken from one celebration to another, her husband's hands on her nearly always. She still felt shocked to think of Zarkon as her husband, and with it came a dull sort of terror as she realized she was bound to him for life now. She knew enough of the Drules to know they did not divorce, not in the conventional sense of the word. It was only through death, either hers or his, that they could be free to marry another, and though Allura was decades younger than her husband, she feared he would outlive her.

Especially with the casual way he killed people, Allura watching horrified as the king not only ordered deaths, but at one point joined in on the killing. She had barely known what to do, watching as her husband joined men younger than him in what was the famed arena of the Drules. He was almost gleeful, transformed from lecherous old man to a being of strength and power. It had sent ripples of fear through her, watching the ease in which Zarkon killed his opponents in the arena's pit.

The people of Doom had gone wild at their King's performance, cheering in approval as he slaughtered man and monster alike. He all but bathed in their blood, his fine garments ruined by it, leaving a sickening stench to his presence, one that had Allura trying not to retch to smell it.

The arena was yet another test of her strength at remaining composed, Allura sitting there with a numb expression on her face as she watched the Drules fight and kill. Even the King's son, Lotor, took part in the fighting, though he was careful to keep the blood and gore from splattering all over him. She also noticed that Lotor was not needlessly cruel, effectively dispatching his opponents at his quickest convenience.

Not Zarkon, who seemed to live for their torment, playing a cruel cat and mouse game where he left them wounded and begging for mercy. A mercy he would not grant them, and Allura reminded herself that it could have very well been her own people who would have been toyed with, if not for her sacrifice. The knowledge that she was keeping her Arusians out of the slaves pits, and away from the arena lent her some strength, Allura relieved she could make a difference to their lives.

Even that was almost not enough for her to maintain her outward calm, Zarkon returning to their booth, with a garish set of presents for her. A dead gladiator, some odd mix of alien that was neither human nor Drule was brought back, and Zarkon made a show of presenting the body for her inspection. She could only stare, not even mustering a polite smile as she looked over the body.

And then to her horror, Zarkon began to dig his sword into the alien's chest, brutally carving out his heart. She obeyed the harshness of her husband's command, holding out her hands though she wanted to scream. Zarkon, grinning a malevolent smile, deposited the slime covered heart in her hands, and it was then she thought she would faint. Especially when he covered the top of the heart with his hands, squishing it between them as the Drules cheered.

Somehow, the heart was thrown into an open flame, another offering to the Drule gods. No one gave her a towel to wipe her hands off, and Allura had to fight not to rub her hands on her fine wedding gown. Zarkon remained covered in blood, making no attempt to clean any of it off, not even his hands, She kept staring at one particularly large stain on his suit in horrified fascination, trying to distract herself from everything going on around her.

Eventually, the spectacle of the arena drew to a close, and by that time the blood on her hands had dried to a reddish brown color. She had to take Zarkon's arm, a thing she was loathe to do, but at least his sleeve was dry now too. The entire wedding party followed them to the parked cruisers, her husband's hands on her waist, lifting Allura into it's back seat.

Those hands of his lingered for longer than was appropriate, and then Zarkon was joining her in the back. He sat right next to her, the side of his body pressed against hers, and she could not see a way to inch away from him without insulting her husband. She endured, a frozen half smile on her face, aware that behind this cruiser were others, Lotor in one, and Nanny and the other ladies in another.

They rode to the city capital, Zarkon all big grins as he waved to the crowd of adoring people. Allura gave half hearted waves as well, listening to the roar of the crowd, and seeing them toss flowers at the cruisers. The streets were flanked on either side by the military, the Drule soldiers keeping the people back from rushing the cruisers. Allura looked away, instead studying the way the city had been transformed, all flowers and balloons and a never ending shower of colorful confetti raining down from the roofs of the buildings.

It was so different from the cities on Arus, the buildings thrice as tall as anything her Arusians had ever made. They looked as bad as the castle, as though they were carved straight out of rocky mountains, rather than built stone by stone. The city had a cramp, claustrophobic feeling to it, the buildings nearly leaning on top of one another. They were all colored in black or dark grays, and only the white lights strung over their frames broke up the gloom that permeated the city.

Eventually the little parade would end up in what was the city's main square, a platform built there and waiting for them. Three large view screens were situated behind it, they would air live feed of the wedding party, and amplify the words spoken. It wasn't just the capital that would be privy to this event, she learned later that the scene was being air lived across all of Doom, a fact that would have made Allura even more nervous.

On the platform she was ushered, and it was there that her husband began to make a speech, grinning, and covered in dried gore. He droned on for a good twenty minutes, pausing at times to pander to the excited crowd. They would cheer even more enthusiastically, leaving Allura to wonder if there was anything Zarkon could say that wouldn't earn their approval.

When her husband's speech was over and done with, he invited Allura up top the podium. She moved less confidently than she'd have liked, Allura knowing it was time for her to make her first address to the people of Doom. She opened her mouth to speak, and staring at those grinning faces, she went blank for a moment. The crowd seemed to stir, restless at her long pause which only increased her nerves.

It was her husband who came to her rescue, Zarkon cracking a joke about his wife being overwhelmed. The gathered Drules seemed to laugh at that, and it bought her the time needed to compose herself. Swallowing nervously, Allura gripped the sides of the podium as though it was her one life line in this dark city of laughing faces. "People of Doom...I am most honored to be standing here before you." She had said, a bland smile plastered on her face.

Her speech started off slow, but as she found her words, her confidence grew. She began to talk about how she hoped to serve the empire, how she wanted to be open and accessible to her new people. She thanked them for their warm, and enthusiastic welcome, asking them to continue to journey with her as she learned all about their world and their customs.

She spoke in Drule, and that too was met with their approval, and no one seemed to notice how careful she was to avoid saying how she felt about being forced to marry their King. She certainly didn't praise him, or thank any Gods for the wedding, but Allura still managed to ingratiate herself to the people by her humbleness and desire to be of use to them. Her speech gave them hope that she would not be some overbearing, tyrant queen looking to force her own beliefs on them.

Her speech was also shorter than Zarkon's, but no less powerful, her words earning heartfelt applause by her new people. When she finished, Zarkon guided her away from the podium, taking the time to whisper praise in her ear. "You did well." He had said approvingly. "You've won them over with your charm and your smile."

"Perhaps." Was all she allowed in return, thinking it would take a lot more than words and pretty looks to truly gain the people's devotion. It would take action, and self sacrifice, Allura ready to work to help Doom to be better in whatever ways she could. She had been hoping to throw herself into the work, if only to keep herself distracted from the person she had married.

After the speeches, the wedding party piled back into the cruisers, riding through different streets of the capital. She and Zarkon barely talked during the ride, the King too busy preening for the people. Allura thought she'd go blind from all the flashes going off, the Drules wanting to commemorate the moment with pictures for their private collections.

Thankfully, they were at the end of the public visits, the cruisers returning them to the castle. She found it hard to think of Castle Doom as her new home, Allura likening it more to a prison and Zarkon her jailor. If he'd allow it, she'd spend as much time away from the castle as she could get away with it, Allura sure she could find somewhere on Doom to be her private haven.

Or at least she hoped too, Allura thought, holding in a sigh as she sat at one of the many banquet tables squeezed into the grand throne room of Castle Doom. It was the first time she had been inside Zarkon's throne room, and she was awed by how immense in size it was. The sheer number of people that fit in, even with all the tables taking up space, left her staggered, Allura remembering how modest in size the throne room in the Castle of Lions was.

Zarkon sat to the right of her, and their table was right in front of the dais that led up to the throne. Their backs were to the dais, Zarkon and Allura facing the crowd of nobles that sat seated not only at their table, but at the table spread through out the room. She didn't have a clue towards the names of anyone, other than her husband and Lotor, Allura feeling lost and woefully out of her realm of comfort.

A feast was spread out on each table, and though she was starving, Allura was hesitant to eat. There still had been no chance to clean her hands, and her husband stank of blood and sweat. She felt nauseous and anxious, worrying about how long this banquet would last, and what would happen once it was over. People kept standing up to give long winded speeches, including Lotor, wishing the newly wedded couple good fortune, luck and happiness.

Every speech was followed with a toast, and Allura feared she was becoming drunk on the wine she was forced to drink. Thankfully not out of skulls this time, the cups small works of art, gold and jewel encrusted. She had been astonished when she first saw the cups, thinking it was more wealth held in one hand than many of her people had seen in their entire life.

Another person was standing, a woman in brown robes that hardly looked fitting when compared to the wealth displayed on the other attendees' garments. She had a screechy sounding voice, and though she smiled, Allura was sure the woman did not mean it when she congratulated the King on the fine match he had made in his marriage. Allura would later learn this woman's name was Haggar, and that she was the high witch appointed to the court.

Haggar was also a keen admirer of the King, holding unnatural lusts for the Drule that were not returned. It was no surprise she hated Allura, having formed an opinion of her long before they had met. But for public appearances, she smiled and simpered, playing up to both king and his new queen.

Apparently Haggar was speaking too long, the King's hand was on Allura's leg. He started by touching her knee, than sliding his claws high up her leg, until he was groping her thigh. Allura had jumped at the touch, and then held herself absolutely still, not betraying what was happening underneath the table.

With shaking hands, she lifted her goblet to her lips, Allura drinking deeply out of nerves. There was a subconscious desire she had, the girl wishing she could drink herself to oblivion so as not to remember her wedding night. She almost spilled her drink when Zarkon leaned in to her, nuzzling his lips against her ear. "I think it's time you excuse yourself from the feasting."

"Oh?"

"Yes..." His fangs grazed the curve of her ear, and then she heard a deep inhale, Zarkon breathing of her scent. "Go now. Make yourself even prettier and wait for me in my bed chamber."

She wondered if she paled at that request, but Allura nodded graciously. "Very well. If it is what you command..."

"It is." Zarkon said, doing one last squeeze of her leg. He stood when she did, making a show of kissing her good-bye. The nobles laughed at this, and a few made innuendo ridden comments, surely thinking she would not understand even half of what they said. She understood enough, Allura feeling sick to hear it, and looking around miserably at the smiling faces.

Only Prince Lotor looked as ill at ease as she did, the girl realizing he had been watching her through out the night with something like pity on his face. She tried to smile for him, but it came out a grimace, Allura wondering why it couldn't have been Lotor she had been forced to marry.

Guards came to circle around her, Allura being escorted past the tables and out into the hall. She felt dizzy and unstable, needing to lean on a guard for support as they walked her through the many corridors that led to the King's apartment. It seemed to take forever to reach it, the motions of walking slow, Allura watching herself from a distance.

But at last they arrived, and the guards took up positions outside the door, the message of their presence obvious. They were there not only to guard her, but to make sure she didn't attempt to flee. She wouldn't have tried, Allura positive there was no safe place for her in the castle. Not so long as she wanted to avoid her husband's affection.

With a shudder she entered the room, and nearly collapsed in relief to see Nanny and the girls from Arus. The Drule ladies in waiting were also present, and the group of seven converged on her, ready to comfort and get her ready. She endured their attentions, being helped out of her gown, the heavy crown at last allowed to leave her head. Once just in her underwear, she came back to herself, long enough to cry urgently for soap and water.

Nanny was already on it, having noticing Allura's blood stained hands, the older woman leading her to the bathroom. Somehow she managed to be alone with Allura, the other two girls keeping the Drules out of the room. It was there that Nanny began to speak quietly as she scrubbed Allura's hands clean.

"You know what is expected of you child?" She asked, and Allura nodding, catch sight of her pale face in the mirror.

"Yes." She was weak as she said it, wondering if her words were slurring from all she had had to drink. "I'm to...to do my wifely duty, and sleep with my husband." Sleep was too mild a word for what was expectated of her, and Nanny sighed.

"This is not what I would have chosen for you." She said, carefully seeing to the grime under Allura's fingernails. "I would have seen you marry if not for love, than at least someone who wasn't old enough to be your grandfather. And an evil tyrant no less, who takes perverse pleasures at the sufferings of others!"

"I know Nanny. But there was little choice in the matter for me...Arus was at stake..."

"And he would have taken you anyway if you had refused him." Nanny grumbled, not meeting Allura's eyes. "He would have raped you like the savage he is...at least this way you have the rank and respectability a Queen affords you. Though I'm sure it's cold comfort on this night..."

"Nanny..." her voice broke on a hoarse cry, Allura tearing up. "I don't want to be with him. Not tonight, not ever..."

"I know child, I know." Nanny looked up, and she seemed as at a loss as Allura was. "I can't begin to know how he'll treat you. I can only hope he will be somewhat gentle given your virginal state. Whatever you do, don't try to fight him. No doubt he'd like that, and take it as an excuse to hurt you further."

"I won't fight." Allura sniffled. "I accepted him as my husband...and so I must submit to him in this. But I'll take no pleasure from it...and Gods willing he will be quick about it, and leave me be for the rest of the night."

"Gods willing." Agreed Nanny, and then Allura began to openly cry. "Oh child..." Nanny cooed, and pulled Allura into her embrace. That just made Allura cry even more, the girl shaking as the woman petted her hair. Nanny began to sing an Arusian lullaby, trying to console her when she was beyond comfort. The older woman's own voice began to crack on some of the notes, Nanny almost crying as well.

A knock sounded on the bathroom door, Geneive's apologetic face appearing in the crack of it. "Those...other women are getting restless. I can only keep them away for so long..."

"They will wait for as long as we want them to!" An infuriated Nanny said, face becoming composed in her anger.

"It's fine.." Allura said, pulling away and rubbing at her eyes. "They're only trying to do their jobs."

"But..."

"There's no use putting off the inevitable." Allura told them both, and opened the door to step out and greet Meleenia and the other women. They were frowning, but their sour dispositions faded when they saw their Queen, the women hurrying to surround Allura. She was taken into the bed chamber, and there was a gown laid out on the bed. It was colored pure white, the silk looking virginal until the dress was held up.

The nightgown would be another form fitting outfit, pulling tight across her breast and her bottom. It also tapered in close to her legs, defining their outlines and making it hard to walk even with the knee high slit on the right side. Spaghetti thin straps would hold the gown in place over her shoulders, and underneath all she wore was plain silk panties.

Her hair was combed out, and brushed, neatly arranged on her shoulders. The Drule females fussed over her, putting powder on her cheeks, and scenting her with some kind of sweet smelling perfume. Meleenia stepped away to light candles, and the room filled with some kind of incense that had the effect of making Allura grow more alert rather than tired. She didn't like that the smell chased away the high of her drink, didn't like that she no longer felt on the verge of collapse.

At last all the preparations were done with, the bed covers turned down, the pillows fluffed. Nanny went to hug her, and whispered in her ear. "Be strong child." Allura could only nod in return. She didn't trust herself to speak, frightened she would start to cry, break down bawling like a baby. She didn't want them to leave her, any of them, not even the Drule females, but knew they couldn't stay.

With despair in her heart she watched as her female attendants filed out of the room, the door being left open so she would be able to see when her husband arrived. She didn't know what to do with herself, and thought her legs might not be able to support her enough to pace the length of the room. Ultimately she decided to sit on the edge of the bed, hands on her lap, fingers fidgeting with the delicate silk. Allura closed her eyes, and concentrated on her breathing, trying to ignore the scent of the perfume, and the incense.

She was trying to find her center, in a desperate but futile attempt to sink into peace. But it would continue to elude her, Allura frantic and recalling the kisses Zarkon had forced on her. She almost broke down crying, and she nearly screamed when she heard the outer chamber's door slam open. Her eyes opened, and met the gaze of her husband, the King closing the door behind him with a backwards kick.

Allura didn't know what to say in the moment, should she greet him, would her words even be heard over the frantic beating of her heart? Zarkon stalked into the room, never take his eyes off her, and she remain rooted to the spot, even as she knew she should at the very least get up and greet him.

She noticed he hadn't taken the time to clean up, he was still covered in the dried remains of blood. She felt ill at the thought of being embraced by him while he reeked of death, and didn't know how to fix the situation to her advantage. Would he be infuriated if she suggested he take a bath? She didn't know, and her eyes widened as he began unbuttoning his jacket.

Those claws of his were dexterous, nimbly opening buttons without pulling them free of the garment. He was already shrugging out of the jacket when she thought to speak, Allura blurting out an apology. "I should be doing that." She had no idea where the words had come form, and for an instant Zarkon seemed almost as surprised as she. Then he smiled, and gestured for her to come closer.

"Very well wife. Attend to me."

Dull with dread, she somehow stood, taking shaky steps towards him. He seemed to drink in her approach, actually licking his lip as he watched her draw near. Her trembling hands began undoing the buttons of the shirt he had on, and she noticed that there was a blood strain near the left side of his waist. She stared at it, and felt Zarkon's eyes on her, Allura pretending not to notice as she opened the shirt.

She gasped when she realized he bore a fresh wound, the cut jagged and nasty looking. She knew she should appear concerned, Allura grazing her fingers just above the wound. "You were hurt..." He seemed to shiver at the touch, and she moved to pull back. Zarkon's fingers locked around her wrist, keeping her hand trapped against his side.

"A minor injury during my fighting in the arena." He grunted back.

"I hadn't realized..." Allura said, and felt ashamed at the thought she had next, wishing he had gotten a more fatal an injury as to leave her a widow on this night.

"It's of no concern." He told her. "I doubt it will even leave a scar."

"Oh..." She tugged on her arm, offering up a lame excuse. "I need to finish getting off your shirt."

"Leave it." Zarkon ordered, and began leading her towards the bed. She didn't quite fight him, but her feet were unwilling, Allura dragging them as she moved forward. He dropped down to sit on the edge of the bed, still holding her wrist captive as he gazed up at her. "You are very beautiful Allura. But then you know that, don't you?"

"I...I've been told before I am pretty..." She began, but he interrupted with a snort.

"Pretty doesn't begin to cover it. If you were simply pretty, I would have taken you and your planet without all this trouble of marriage."

"And I am grateful to you for granting me my honor and seeing to my planet's needs..." Allura told him, and he grinned at her.

"I'm sure you will prove just how grateful as the night wears on." He tugged her closer, so that she stood between his spread legs, and only then did he release her wrist. But he quickly moved both hands to her hips, holding her there as he studied her in her silk nightgown. She tried to stand as still as a statue, unsure of what if anything she should do. His smiled widened, and his eyes gleamed. "So beautiful...so pure...so untouched..." He laughed then, as though privy to a joke she would not understand. "And all mine."

She said nothing to that, mouth going dry as his hands glided up the sides of her body. His eyes narrowed, and he hissed at her, voice commanding and urgent. "Say it wife! Commit to me that you belong to no other..."

"You know I don't..." Allura said bewildered, and his fingers tightened on her waist. "I belong to you, and you alone."

"Yes." Now he purred, eyes showing satisfaction. "Just me." He had her pressed against his body, and she could feel the unmoving hardness of him, and the strength in his hands. The strength enough to kill as she had witnessed earlier this day. Certainly enough power to hold her down if she fought him, and that thought made her tremble violently. He seemed to smirk at the shaking she was doing, even as he began running his hands all over her body.

"I'll be the only one to ever see you this way..." Zarkon told Allura. "The only one to ever touch you, the only one to ever love you." His hands cupped her breasts, and gave her harsh squeezes, Allura biting her lip to keep from crying out in pained revulsion. "Your tastes, your sound? All for me..." He let go of her breasts, and glided his claws up to the thin straps of her nightgown. She should have known what was coming, should have been prepared to go naked in front of him. And yet it still took her in surprise when he sliced open the straps of her nightgown.

The silk immediately flopped downwards, sliding smoothing down her body to crumple at her feet. She gasped and felt ashamed, both at her nudity and the pleasure that shown in her husband's eyes. She went to cover herself, and he grabbed her wrists, forcing her arms out to her sides, so he could look her over in leisure. Her breath came in short gasps, and Allura knew she was turning red all over.

She couldn't keep from cringing when he tucked her in close, his claws digging into her wrists a moment before he began bowing his head to her breasts. Like his kiss, this was unexpected and unwanted, Allura's skin crawling at the feel of his tongue slobbering over her skin. She didn't want this, didn't want him to try and do anything to give her pleasure. She just wanted the act to be over with, and had no idea that Zarkon was beginning what would prove to be a near endless night of debauchery and torture for the young Queen.

To Be Continued...

Michelle

Christine, the Dark Rose Maiden, thanks! I'm glad I could properly convey how uncomfortable Allura was with everything that was happening (And continues to happen) to her last chapter. I had considered Allura fainting during the bloody wedding ceremony, it was even in my notes with a question mark to it. But ultimately I decided against having her pass out. I imagined if she did, they'd have to start the ceremony over from the beginning! :o

Misty Gargoyle, thanks dear! Glad you like the wedding ceremony!


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn't often that Lotor arrived early enough to breakfast to catch company with his meal. Most days he preferred it that way, Lotor never one for gossip and politics while he was eating. But this day was rare for him, Lotor walking into the private dining room and catching sight of Haggar the witch. She wasn't the only one of his father's inner circle that was present, several key advisors were there, surely eager to pester the King with matters of the kingdom.

Lotor wondered if Zarkon would even be interested in work, the Drule had after all just taken his bride the night before. The newness of Allura would not have worn off, and even if it had, after a night of sexual debauchery, he knew work would be the last thing on his father's mind. Indeed, this morning was a rarity, Zarkon not having put in an appearance yet. Everyone talked about it, speculating whether he was still sleeping, or if he was engaging in the affections of his young bride.

Lotor felt sick to even think of his father touching Allura, his hand curling into a fist around the stem of his goblet. No one seemed to notice the way he glowered at his plate, Lotor tipping back the drink, and wishing it was something stronger. And yet even the most potent of wines hadn't been able to numb him to the point of being unable to think, Lotor downing glass after glass in an attempt to forget what he father was doing. Or rather WHO.

He wasn't sure how he had made it through all the wedding day festivities, the celebrations seemingly endless as ceremony after ceremony occurred. His father had gone over board, Zarkon sparing no expense in parading his new bride before the people. And they seemed to already adore her, judging by the reactions to Allura. He held back a snort, disgusted that his people could be so easily bought by a pretty face, even as Lotor knew that same face was working her magic on him.

Lotor didn't like that he could not stop thinking about Allura, that he worried for her, and felt pity for her situation. Nor did he enjoy being plagued by thoughts of her in his father's arms, enduring his kisses and lecherous touches. Such thoughts were enough to make him lose his appetite, Lotor aimlessly pushing his food around his plate. He hardly bothered to join the conversations around him, mustering up suitable sounds of noise in an effort to pretend he was listening.

It nearly worked until one of the advisors asked him point blank about something, Lotor realizing the conversation had stopped. Everyone was looking at him, waiting expectantly for his answer. An answer he couldn't give, nor would he admit to having not heard the question, Lotor preoccupying himself with taking a long sip of his drink.

The sound of approaching footsteps saved him any further embarrassment, everyone turning to look at the soldiers entering the room. They wore the colors of his father's personal guard, the men spreading out about the room. Haggar and the advisors were already rising to their feet, anticipating their king's arrival. Lotor stood more slowly, taking care to finish off his drink as he waited for his father to walk through those doors.

He was of mixed feelings when he saw Zarkon enter alone, Allura not by his side. He wondered why, and worried his father had left the young Queen in no condition to move about the castle. His fears increased when two slaves entered with the bed sheets from the king's bed, the royal silk stained in spots with blood. It was an old custom of the Drule to display the proof of the spent virginity of a noble's bride. But this? There seemed more blood than should be possible for a torn hymen.

Haggar and the advisors were bowing to their King, Lotor so taken with the bed sheet he forgot his manners. It wasn't until Zarkon turned to him, eyebrow arched in annoyance, that Lotor remembered to offer submission to the king. The scowl did not quite leave Zarkon's face, but he nodded all the same, and moved to take his seat at the head of the breakfast table.

The slaves were hanging the silk on the near wall, it was custom to leave it displayed where any and all could come and see it. Once upon a time Drule custom had made use of the blood stained sheets as a table cloth for the wedded couple's first breakfast together. That custom had fallen out of practice more than a hundred years ago, and Lotor found himself wishing the sheet itself had been abolished.

King Zarkon had the best silverware laid out before him, a slave girl selecting breakfast tidbits to place on his plate. Zarkon ignored the slave for the most part, grinning jovially at his companions. Lotor found himself wanting to wipe the grin off Zarkon's face, knowing it was put there by whatever he had done to Allura.

"You seem in good spirits my king." Haggar noted, lifting a withered date to her lips.

"And why shouldn't I be, witch?" Zarkon demanded, never losing his grin. "I just spent the night with the most beautiful woman in all the galaxies. A woman who is my sole property, her every charm devoted to my pleasure alone. Of course I am happy!"

"Yes." One of the advisors agreed, mirroring the king's smile. "It would not take much effort to smile when you have one such as she in your bed."

"Indeed." Zarkon began to bite into a hunk of meat, his teeth chomping and gnashing, tearing apart the cooked flesh.

"And how is the young Queen?" Inquired the second advisor, a man with a reddish orange mohawk stripe down the center of an otherwise bald head. "Will she be joining us for breakfast this morning?"

"Aye she should." Zarkon answered, smirking around his messy mouthful. "I left her to the tender care of her ladies. Other than shedding a few tears and some blood, she will be fine."

"Oh?" Lotor could not help himself, seizing a foothold into the conversation. "Did you make her cry father?" His words came out sarcastic, Lotor not at all surprised Allura would have cried to be embraced by Zarkon.

"Virgins tears." Grunted Zarkon, fixing Lotor with a look. "They are the best kind." His annoyed look vanished, Zarkon displaying his fangs. "But then you would know all about that, wouldn't you Lotor?"

Lotor nodded, knowing he had been fortunate enough to introduce several women to the pleasures of the body-his. And yet Lotor would bet the entirety of his private fortune that Zarkon had neither been nice nor gentle when taking Allura's innocence.

"It's even better when they cry." Laughed the advisor with the mohawk. "Let's you know they're really feeling it."

"Feeling what?" tsked Haggar with a disapproving look. "A skilled lover need not hurt his partner to make her feel anything." The advisor scowled at her, not liking what the witch had said. Lotor chuckled behind his glass, stealing a look at his father who was still grinning.

"Of course, when you're as generously endowed as we Drule are, we can't help but hurt our human lovers." Lotor lost all amusement then, trying to look anywhere but at his father. "And let me assure you...those who've never had a human before, the fit is like no other." Zarkon going into detail about how it had felt when having sex with Allura was the last thing Lotor wanted to listen to, the prince inwardly scowling.

Haggar looked just as displeased as Lotor felt, though she raised no objections to what the king was saying. The two advisors sat up straighter, listening intently to Zarkon's words.

"I could barely fit all of myself inside her..." continued Zarkon, his tone boasting. "Humans are so small, so delicate and fragile."

"Did she scream a lot?" One advisor dared to ask, and Lotor shot the man a murderous look.

"Oh yes." Zarkon chuckled then. "If it's one thing my bride is not, it's silent! Nearly busted my eardrums a few times, though the rest of me didn't mind!" More laughter from the advisors, Lotor couldn't tell if they really enjoyed this kind of talk, or were just pandering to their king.

"Ah you know what they say..." The first advisor began when the laughter died down. "Better she be vocal in bed, then vocal about the affairs of state!"

"Yes." agreed the second Drule. "We do not need her getting ideas, making suggestions on how you should run your empire."

"Didn't you know?" Lotor broke in sharply. "Allura of Arus has no ambition, least of all where Doom's throne is concerned."

"That remains to be seen." Muttered Haggar, laying her knife down.

"Oh? You think the new Queen will be trouble?" questioned one of the advisors, and everyone turned to stare at Haggar. She took her time answering, sampling the wine that was offered with the day's breakfast.

"She just might."

"I'll keep her leash so short she won't have time to do anything else but please me." Zarkon replied, his grin hinting at just what sort of pleasing Allura would do.

"Even a leashed Queen still retains some power." Haggar murmured cryptically, and Lotor wondered if she had had one of her visions. But before he could ask, Zarkon gave a dismissive snort, and footsteps heralded the arrival of the Queen's entourage. The seven women piled into the banquet room, each one taking the time to curtsey to the king. Allura was the last to arrive, and all save for Zarkon rose to greet her, offering low bows of the proper amount of respect for one of her station.

Allura had yet to notice the stained bed sheets, dutifully walking towards her husband's seat. Her path took her past Lotor, and he found himself unconsciously drawing in deep breaths in an attempt to smell her perfume. He wanted to scowl when he realized what he was doing, Lotor waiting impatiently for the signal that they could retake their seats.

When Allura placed a kiss on her husband's cheek, Lotor had to fight not to make fists, his fingers twitching from the restraint he was showing. It grew worse when Zarkon turned his face to her, catching her on the lips with an open mouthed kiss. Allura stiffened at that, but to her credit did not jerk away, enduring Zarkon's tongue. The advisors chuckled softly, and Haggar made a nose, shifting from foot to foot. Lotor glanced the witch's way, and saw the displeased expression she wore, hinting that she wasn't the only one unhappy with this union.

At last Zarkon was done forcing attention on his bride, Allura's expression not betraying how relieved she felt to be able to separate from him. She turned to face the table, surely about to say some greeting, when her face paled noticeably. Lotor didn't have to turn to guess what she had seen, the girl staring at something at the opposite end of the table.

To his amazement, except for that whitening of her skin, she kept her composure, Allura taking the seat besides Zarkon. The old King had a wicked smirk on his lipstick stained lips, and he reached over to pat Allura's hand solicitously. She barely reacted, still staring at the blood covered bed sheets, hardly taking notice when a slave began filling her plate with the morning's meal.

"I was just speaking about you." Zarkon had switched to basic, Allura recovering enough to make a sound.

"Oh? All good things I hope."

"Only the best." He assured her, and winked at his advisors. "Come eat..." He had noticed Allura had yet to actually touch her meal, the King's urgings just short of an official command. "You need to rebuild your strength, especially after last night." He chuckled wickedly at her blush, Allura gripping a fork and spearing it rather viciously into some kind of gelatin substance.

Her eyes kept straying to the sheet, and though Lotor did not look at her ladies, he could hear the oldest, Nanny, whispering heatedly in her native tongue. She sounded furious, and the other two girls from Arus worked to calm her down, and quiet her. It was surely a sign of Zarkon's good mood that he did not take to whipping the women for speaking without permission in his presence.

"I'm glad you could join us." Zarkon was saying, and with a clap of his hands, the slaves hurried away from the table.

"It is my honor to be here." Allura said graciously, and Lotor marveled at her cool composure.

"Speaking of honors...I thought it fitting I bestow some gifts on my new bride." Zarkon looked satisfied as the slaves hurried back, boxes carved out of wood in their hands. It seemed Allura was not immune to gifts, she actually lit up with her interest.

"Gifts? You shouldn't have..." She protested demurely.

"I wanted to." Zarkon told her, the slaves lining up behind him. "It is only right I give my new queen tokens of my affection. Especially after she's pleased me so thoroughly." Allura seemed to twitch, and it was then that Lotor realized Zarkon's hand was under the table, no doubt touching some part of his bride. Lotor angrily grabbed his refilled goblet, tossing back the drink as though that would chase away the sour taste in his mouth.

Zarkon took a box from one of the slaves, this one about medium sized in length. He presented it to Allura, an expectant look in his eyes as he urged her to lift the lid. She did so with the proper amount of hesitation, neither indifferent nor over eager to what was inside. Haggar and the advisors leaned forward, eager to see what the gift was, Allura carefully lifting an object out of the box's velvet insides.

It was a circlet, carved out of pearl, with three blood red rubies set in the center of it. It was much different from the ceremonial crown Allura had been forced to wear for the wedding, this circlet being light enough that she would grow comfortable with it's presence on her. Allura stared at it a long moment, fingers handling the pearl circlet carefully, even touching the rubies before she inclined her head in a bow.

"I thank you husband." She said, and he nodded.

"It's not much..." Lotor nearly sputtered out his drink at that, knowing the pearl and ruby circlet had to have cost a fortune. "I merely wanted you to have a crown befitting your status as Queen of my Empire." Zarkon gestured for Allura to hand over the circlet, one of the Drule ladies approaching to help pin it in place in the Queen's hair. Zarkon looked her over with satisfaction, nodding to himself.

"Yes...you are one step closer to looking like a true Queen of Doom." A snapping of his claws had the second box presented to him, and it had to be heavy for even Zarkon struggled with it's weight. He ended up resting it on the table, watching as Allura opened up what was a chest full of gold. She stared amazed at it, Lotor wondering if she had ever seen so much money before.

"Our newest currency." Zarkon was explaining, pushing coins into Allura's hands. "Newly minted, and spread through out the kingdom." He traced a claw over one coin, and Lotor heard Allura murmur something.

"It's...it's me..." She whispered, staring at her face on the coin.

"This is the sum of your monthly allowance." Zarkon told her. "You'll be using some of it today to buy yourself a new wardrobe." He cast a critical eyes over Allura's spring colored gown, then snorted. "Pretty as Arusian fashion is, it won't do for Doom's court."

Lotor was already mourning the loss of Allura's pretty dresses, thinking how what passed for fashion for a Drule noble would never looked right on the young queen. But he knew it wasn't his place to complain, Allura wasn't his, but his father's to dress and do with as he saw fit.

Allura herself had glanced down in dismay at her pale blue dress, surely wondering what was wrong with it. Zarkon was already closing the lid of the chest, speaking to her. "Your financial affairs will be monitored by my accountants of course."

"Of course." She said meekly.

"You'll have to clear it with me before you make any big purchases." Continued Zarkon, and Lotor realized that even in this way the king meant to control Allura. This was not the Drule way, to put a strangle hold on their Queen's money, but it was something Zarkon would think to do. "I won't have my Queen foolishly throwing away her money."

"It's her money to spend." Lotor muttered under his breath, Zarkon glaring at him.

"It is MY money!" Zarkon growled, banging a fist so forcefully on the table, that all the plates rattled. Allura jumped, and Lotor wondered if she knew what was being said, the exchange between father and son being in Drule. "Anything she has, anything she is given is all earned on my generosity. I will not have you, nor she, entertaining otherwise!"

"Fine, point taken." Lotor said moodily, fighting not to slump in his seat.

"The third gift, sire?" Haggar had expertly read the mood, and was urging Zarkon to direct his attention elsewhere.

"Ah yes." Zarkon smiled, though his eyes still flashed with his anger. "The final surprise of this morning." This box was the smallest of them all, the king needed only one hand to lift it.

Allura lifted the lid, and a puzzled look appeared on her face. She reached inside, pulling out a silver key, and all could see she didn't understand what it was for. "I've given you your own booth at the arena." Zarkon was explaining, and Allura blinked, fighting to keep her true feelings off her face. "Along with the booth, there are gladiators assigned to you. It's time you personally partake in the national Drule past time, and pit these warriors against man and beast."

"Oh...oh thank you husband." Allura said, placing the key back in the box. One of her attendants, a pretty Drule female Lotor was sure he had seen at court, came to pocket the key box, surely intending to stow it away until Allura had use for it.

Zarkon was beaming, in amazingly good spirits over the gifts and Allura's reactions. He didn't seem to notice, or care that she hadn't acted overly pleased with the last gift, and Lotor knew that could be written off as her human sensibilities becoming upset at the thought of the bloodshed of the arena.

"Will you be coming with me to choose my new wardrobe?" Allura suddenly asked, and wore an odd expression when Zarkon shook his head no. The king surely misread that as distress, patting her hand soothingly.

"Fear not bride, I won't send you to town alone." Zarkon suddenly looked straight at Lotor, and the prince felt a sinking feeling of dread over take him. "Prince Lotor would love to accompany you. Right son?" The last was hissed sharply, and Lotor could only nod his head glumly.

"Right father." Helping his father's woman pick out clothing meant to please Zarkon was the last thing Lotor wanted to do, but he didn't know how to get out of it without giving offense to the king. Nor did he want to see the hurt look on Allura's face if he openly refused to help her.

Allura glanced at Lotor, her face hidden from Zarkon so that she risked a small smile at him. Lotor kept his expression bland, listening to her speak. "I thank you for any help you can offer me." She gave a slight incline of her head, bowing her thanks to him. Lotor returned the bow, trying to appear gracious, even as everything in body screamed and protested what a bad idea this excursion into town would be.

To Be Continued...

Michelle

Misty Gargoyle, ooh causing your skin to crawl is a good thing in my book. It means I conveyed the feelings Allura was experiencing very well! And thanks for reading! :)


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